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hanniebaeee · 26 days ago

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The Secret Hwang

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: reader is pregnant

Genre: exes to lovers?? angst, fluff

Summary: Hyunjin breaks up with you after the company thinks your relationship is affecting his work. What he didn't know was that you were also gearing up to tell him something very important. But then swoops in two angels in disguise, helping you through the tough time, before it all blows over.

You’re breaking up with me?” The words left your lips before your brain could catch up.

Your heart thundered against your ribcage, like it was desperate to escape what was unfolding right then. And your boyfriend of three years, Hyunjin, looked as miserable as you felt.

Hyunjin stood in front of you, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie, shoulders sagging. He wouldn’t look at you - that was even worse.

“Yes,” he whispered, voice so low it barely registered. “I'm so sorry.”

You take a step closer, his words not making any sense.

“You have to? What the hell does that mean, Hyunjin? Did I…did I do something? Did I hurt you-?”

His head snaps up, his eyes wide and glossy, horrified at the mere suggestion.

“No! Of course not! You’ve never - God, Y/N, no. It’s -” His words faltered, and he looked away again, his hands shaking as they grip his hoodie strings. “It’s…they think it’s affecting me. My work.”

“Who? The company?”

“They said…” He swallowed hard, the words clearly tearing him apart as he forced them out. “They said if I don’t end this, they’ll fire you. They’ll make sure you never work in this industry again. And they’ll…ruin it all for you...”

You stared at him, utterly speechless. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

“So what? You’re just going to do what they want? Throw away three years like it means nothing?”

“It’s not like that,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“Protect me? By breaking me?” You laughed bitterly, even though it felt more like choking.

You knew he wanted to reach for you, to pull you close like he always did when you were upset, but he didn’t move.

“Baby, I don’t have a choice. If I don’t do this-”

You didn't stay to hear the rest. You took a step back before saying, “You’re a coward,”

Hyunjin’s head snapped up like you slapped him, but you pressed on.

“You’re letting them control you. Letting them decide what our love is worth. You’re not even fighting for me.”

Hyunjin’s face crumpled, and for a second, you thought he would reconsider. But he didn't. He just looked really sad. And lost.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“Goodbye, Hyunjin.”

And then you ran. You didn’t look back. You couldn't. Because if you did, you’d fall apart completely, and you just couldn’t afford that. Not with the tiny life growing inside you.

The three months that followed were hard, no doubt. But relatively less harder than you thought, considering the fact that the boys were on tour. You didn't have to see him everyday as you taught your heart to ‘unlove’ him. If such a thing could be done.

You had decided to go ahead with your pregnancy - bad call probably, because you obviously couldn't tell anyone that your baby was Hyunjin’s. Of course. So you'd have to come up with a creative lie to cover the gap - a non-existent boyfriend or a husband?

It was exhausting.

---

You stood at the kitchen counter, staring at your ultrasound scan result. The sight of your little bean on the screen earlier had brought tears to your eyes - happy bittersweet ones. But mostly, you’d felt so terribly lonely.

Moments like that were meant to be shared, weren’t they? Your heart ached so much. So damn much. You sighed as you gazed at the little form in the black and white image.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Setting the report on the counter, you get the door. What you didn't expect was Felix’s sweet smiling face. You hadn't seen him or any of the boys since the break up (they'd left for the tour), so seeing Felix, your close friend, made you freeze.

“Lix,” you said, your voice more tired than you’d like.

He immediately pulled you into a warm hug, and you had to control that strong urge to just weep.

“Hey,” he said, squeezing you tightly. “I missed you! How have you been?”

“I'm alright. You guys had a good tour I heard,” You managed, stepping aside to let him in.

“It was good,” He said with a smile, and held up a bag. “I brought you a little something from Australia.”

“Lix, you didn’t have to -”

“Oh, hush. I do it all the time.” he said. “You look... tired…you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you lied, waving him off.

“You want me to get his stuff? I have it packed and ready.” You said, wanting to get that out of the way as soon as possible.

“Yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “ Is that okay?”

Your stomach twisted unpleasantly, but you nodded and said, “Yeah, of course. Let me grab it.”

He followed you into the house, and as you went into the bedroom to get Hyunjin’s things, Felix walked into the kitchen to put the things he got for you away.

When you returned with the bag, however, you saw Felix in the kitchen, uncharacteristically quiet. You walked in and completely froze in the doorway.

Felix stood by the counter, holding your ultrasound result, and his usually bright expression was completely blank, his eyes glued black and white image.

“Lix…” you said softly, panic rising in your chest.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice eerily calm, “what is this?”

You didn’t answer, your hands trembling as you clutched the bag of Hyunjin’s things. Tears pricked your eyes, and you knew there was no use pretending or coming up with a lie.

“Please tell me this is not what I think it is.” he said, his voice wavering as he turned to face you with the paper in his hand.

Your silence spoke louder than words. Tears spilled over, and you quickly wiped at them, trying to keep it together. But it was of no use - Felix took one look at your face and let the paper fall onto the counter.

“Oh my God.” His voice cracked as he crossed the room in two giant strides, pulling you into a tight hug.

His arms wrapped around you like a safety net, holding you together.

“Y/N, please don't tell me Hyunjin knocked you up and then broke up with you. Tell me I’m hallucinating. Please.”

You laughed weakly through your tears, the absurdity of the situation hitting you all at once.

“He didn't know, Lix. He didn't know-” You whispered and Felix pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still on your shoulders.

His mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was trying to form words but couldn't. Finally, he let out a strangled laugh.

“He doesn’t know?!” He shook his head, his freckles standing out against his flushed skin. “Are you kidding me, Y/N? You’re telling me that man broke up with you because he wanted to protect you, and the entire time, you’ve been carrying his baby?”

“I was going to tell him, Lix, I was. That's why I went to meet him, but didn't give me a chance to say anything…he just…he just broke up with me!” you cried, wiping your face. “What was I supposed to do? Tell him and ruin everything?”

“Yes!” Felix shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “Yes, sweetheart, you’re supposed to tell him! He deserves to know. This is big, like life changing big!”

You shook your head, your voice trembling as you said, “Lix, you don’t understand. This is about his career, his dreams. He’s worked so hard to get where he is, and I won’t be the reason he loses it all.”

Felix stared at you, his face a mixture of disbelief and heartbreak.

“Y/N,” he said softly. “You can’t do this alone.”

“I have to,” you whispered, looking down at the floor. “I will.”

“Yes, you do.” His voice was firm, his hands gently cupping your cheeks and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “But don't have to. I’m here. Whatever you need, anything at all, you’ve got me. You’re not allowed to say no, okay?”

Your breath hitched, the warmth of his hands and the sincerity in his voice had you crumblung all over again. “Lix…”

“I mean it,” he said, his eyes shining with determination. “You’re not doing this alone. I don’t care what it takes. We’re going to figure this out. Together.”

You nodded, sniffling as he wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “Thank you.”

Felix didn’t say anything to Hyunjin. True to his word, he kept his mouth shut, but the secret was eating him alive to say the least. The man had gone full protective mode - literally adopting you, and by extension, your unborn child, completely.

And his possessiveness manifested in the most Felix way possible: constant texting. Constant.

Also, he changed your contact name to George. Why? Because no ones gonna get suspicious about a George he's talking to 24*7, right?

---

7:32 am

Felix: Good morning, sunshine! Have you eaten yet? If not, DO IT NOW. Don’t argue with me.

Felix: I will come over if you don't obey me, George!

You: Felix, it’s 7 in the morning. I just woke up. Also, who's George?

Felix: You’re George. That’s your name now. It’s safer this way.

Felix: And don’t dodge the question: HAVE YOU EATEN???

You: I literally just rolled out of bed, Felix. Give me a second to breathe.

Felix: No time to breathe, go FEED THE BABY.

You: This baby isn’t even hungry yet. Can you chill?

Felix: Fine. But just so you know, I won't hesitate from force-feeding you myself.

---

12:45 PM

Felix: Hey, did you go to your appointment today?

You: Yes, I went.

Felix: Pics or it didn’t happen.

You: I’m not sending you pictures of me at the doctor’s office, Lix

Felix: Why not? What if I need to fight the doctor? I need evidence.

You: Why would you need to fight my doctor?

Felix: I dunno, what if they're bad at their job? I’m not taking chances, George.

You: Please stop calling me George.

Felix: It's your name.

---

7:48 PM

Felix: Are you home? Did you eat dinner? Did you lock your doors?

You: Oh my God, Felix, can you give me a second to exist without you breathing down my neck?

Felix: No. I’m invested now.

You: Why are you like this?

Felix: Because my best friend knocked you up and then left you, and now I feel morally obligated to act like your baby daddy by proxy.

You: Please don’t say that again. Ever.

Felix: Too late. Also, how’s George Jr.?

You: Felix, we are NOT naming this baby George Jr.

Felix: Why not? It’s a great name.

You: I’m blocking you.

Felix: No, you’re not.

---

Hyunjin on the other hand was completely unaware of everything that was happening around him. He was completely shut off, pouring his entire self into practice and his work outs.

He missed you. He missed you so damn much. He would randomly take a walk in the building, hoping he'd get a glimpse of you. But seriously, you were nowhere to be seen.

Hyunjin was on his way to the practice room after a particularly unsuccessful attempt to run into you, when he heard the voices. He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but the venom in their tone caught his attention.

It took him a minute to figure out that they were actually talking about you, and he couldn't help but feel that rage bubbling up inside him.

“She’s gained so much weight lately,” one of the girls snickered. “I mean, have you seen her?”

The other girl laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t know what happened to her. She used to be so put together, but now? She’s just… bloated and tired all the time.”

Hyunjin’s jaw clenched so hard it felt like his teeth might crack. How dare they?! He felt the overwhelming urge to whirl around and to let his emotions loose, to say something.

But of course Hyunjin couldn’t do that. Not really. He was an idol - a carefully constructed image, a brand - and he's already sacrificed way too much for the sake of it. He couldn’t afford to screw it all up now.

So instead, he swallowed his rage, shoved his hands deep into his pockets, and started walking again. And then, as if it was a cruel joke, he saw you.

You were walking down the hallway, dressed in a dark-colored sweater, your hair tied back, wisps escaping to frame your face. You looked tired, yes. But, as always, to him, you looked absolutely beautiful.

But Hyunjin couldn't help but see that something was different. His eyes lingered a little too long on the soft curve of your body. Your face seemed rounder, your stride slightly slower, more careful.

His heart ached as he watched you pause at the corner, adjusting your bag before disappearing around the corner. He missed you so much it physically hurt. Shaking his head, Hyunjin turned and walked away, trying so hard to hold it all together.

He couldn’t keep doing this to himself. He had to move on.

If only he knew that a mini Hyunjin was quite literally baking inside you, tucked away and growing strong under that sweater. If only he knew.

3:40 pm

Felix: How's the nausea?

You: I can't understand why it's called morning sickness if it's gonna last all day and trying to murder me

Felix: Don’t worry, George, I’m gonna make you the perfect meal. Zero vomit potential.

You: Omg

---

Meanwhile in Felix’s kitchen:

Felix was in deep. The counter was a disaster of herbs and half-cut veggies, and a pan bubbled ominously on the stove. His laptop sat precariously on the edge of the counter, streaming a cooking tutorial that Felix was utterly failing to keep up with.

“Chop the ginger finely,” the video said.

Felix frowned down at the mangled, uneven chunks of ginger on his cutting board.

“This is fine, right?” he mumbled to himself, throwing them into a pan.

“No, it’s not fine,” a voice said behind him, calm but dripping with judgment.

Felix jumped, yelping as he nearly knocked the pan off the stove. He whirled around to see Minho leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed and a single eyebrow raised.

“Hyung!” Felix squeaked, his voice an octave too high. “What are you doing here?”

“We're having dinner together. Forgot I see ?” Minho asked flatly, his sharp eyes sweeping over the culinary battlefield. He nodded at the laptop screen.

“What’s this? I thought we were ordering?”

Felix scrambled to close the YouTube video but fumbled, sending a spatula clattering to the floor.

“No! I just…uh…thought this recipe looked… yummy?”

Minho’s other eyebrow shot up as he read, “Ginger and lemon soup for nausea relief? That’s not exactly your usual vibe, Lix.”

Felix froze, his brain scrambling for an excuse. “I…uh…”

Minho tilted his head, his gaze locked on Felix. He gestured toward the mess. “Who’s it for?”

“No one!” Felix blurted out too quickly.

Minho smirked - like a cat cornering a mouse. He strolled into the kitchen, plucked up the laptop, and read the YouTube title aloud: “Pregnancy-Friendly Meals, huh?”

Felix groaned internally. He was so dead. Minho set the laptop down and turned to Felix, his face unreadable.

“You’re cooking for Y/N, aren’t you?”

“How…what…why would you -” Felix blinked at him, jaw dropping.

“I saw her going into a maternity hospital last week...and now this? It’s really sweet of you,” Minho said, his tone soft and kind, as he started clearing the counter. “She’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

Felix stared at him, absolutely flabbergasted. How did Minho know? He stayed silent, unsure if confirming or denying would make things worse.

“Relax, I’m not going to say anything. But…” His sharp eyes flicked to the pan on the stove, then back to Felix, a smirk forming on his face. “You’re doing a terrible job. Move.”

Before Felix could protest, Minho rolled up his sleeves and took over. Within minutes, the chaos Felix had created was transformed into a very professionally prepared meal.

Felix hovered awkwardly, torn between relief and panic. “You…you won’t tell anyone, right?”

Minho snorted. “Of course not. And if you’re serious about helping her, then I'll stand right by you.”

He packed up everything in containers and handed it to Felix with a raised eyebrow.

“Now go. She needs to eat.”

---

Felix was at yours in record time, and when he set the food down on the coffee table, you looked up from the couch, sighing softly.

“Did you burn the kitchen down?”

“Nope,” Felix said quickly. “Minho saved me.”

Your head snapped up, eyes wide. “What? Minho? He knows?”

Felix flopped onto the couch beside you, looking absolutely defeated.

“Yeah, apparently he’s known for a while. He saw you going into the maternity hospital one day.”

You groaned, dragging a hand over your face. “Oh my God.”

“He promised not to say anything!” Felix said defensively, holding his hands up. “And he even helped cook this. So, technically, you can’t kill me.”

You glared at him but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Thanks for being here, Lix.”

Felix grinned, nudging the plate toward you. ��Eat, George. Minho will haunt me if you don’t.”

You rolled your eyes but dug in, and for the first time in days, the food didn’t immediately send you running for the bathroom.

---

The next morning, you woke up to the doorbell, in the early hours. It was still dark outside, as you stumbled out of your bedroom, still half-asleep, and a scowl firmly planted on your face.

“Took you long enough,” Minho mumbled as he walked into your apartment, going straight for the kitchen.

You were trying to understand if you were hallucinating or if Minho was actually in your kitchen.

“Minho, what are you doing here?” You asked, trying to tame your hair.

“Sit,” he commanded without looking up, focused on flipping something in the pan.

You frowned but obeyed, collapsing into a chair at the table. “It’s not even sunrise.”

“Just making sure you eat,” he said simply. “Lix said you're struggling,”

“You're here to cook for me?”

“Yes?”

Before you could respond, the door swung open, and Felix stepped inside, carrying what looked like a bag of groceries. He stopped short, staring at Minho with the same confusion you felt.

“What is he doing here?”

“I could ask the same about you,” Minho shot back without missing a beat, sprinkling a pinch of salt over whatever masterpiece he was working on.

Felix stormed into the kitchen, setting his bag down with an unnecessary thud. “What are you doing, hyung? And what are you even making? George doesn’t even like eggs that much!”

Minho scoffed. “It’s not for you, so why does it matter?”

“It matters because I’m supposed to be taking care of her!” Felix snapped, crossing his arms like an angry puppy.

“Clearly, you weren’t doing a great job,” Minho retorted. “I saw the mess you called cooking yesterday.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands. “Not this.”

---

Over the next few days, it became a full-on battle between Minho and Felix. It started with each trying to one-up the other in ways that were more amusing than helpful.

One morning, Felix insisted on making pancakes, painstakingly arranging blueberries into a smiley face on each one. “See, George? They’re cute and delicious!”

Minho, unimpressed, countered by making a three-course breakfast complete with fresh juice and perfectly folded napkins. “Pregnant women need nutrients, not art projects,” he said smugly.

Felix glared at him like he wanted to fight. “Pregnant women also need to smile, and my pancakes are adorable.”

But for all their ridiculousness, their constant presence was a comfort. They kept you distracted from the gaping hole in your chest where Hyunjin’s absence had settled. But no amount of blueberry pancakes or perfectly cooked meals could fill that void.

Felix had barged into your apartment one evening with a box of cookies that he'd baked.

“George! I baked you something!”

Minho, already in the kitchen chopping vegetables, glanced over his shoulder with a look that screamed, not this again.

“What are those?” Minho asked, gesturing to Felix's box with his knife.

“Cookies,” Felix said proudly, setting them on the table in front of you. “Pregnancy-safe, gluten-free, sugar-free, full of love.”

“Full of what?” Minho deadpanned, clearly unimpressed.

“Love!” Felix shot back, hands on his hips. “Something you wouldn’t understand, obviously.”

“Love isn’t a substitute for nutrition, Yongbok. Try again.” Minho snorted.

“Oh, here we go,” you muttered, already bracing for the impending argument as you sat at the table, nibbling cautiously on a cookie.

“You’re just jealous because George Jr. is my baby,” Felix said, crossing his arms and glaring at Minho like he’d just won the argument of the century.

Minho paused mid-chop, turned slowly to face Felix.

“George Jr.?” he asked flatly. “That’s the best you could come up with?”

“What’s wrong with George Jr.?” Felix said defensively. “It’s a strong name! Unique even!”

Minho scoffed. “Unique isn’t always a good thing, Felix. You might as well call the baby Lemon or Carrot.”

“Wow, okay,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands.

“And besides,” Minho continued, turning back to the stove like the conversation was settled, “I do the majority of the cooking, Y/N is thriving on it, so I'm the rightful Appa.”

Felix gasped like Minho had just slapped him.

“Excuse me? Cooking doesn’t make you the dad! I’m the one who gives her all the cuddles and emotional support!”

“You’re like a clingy golden retriever,” Minho shot back, not even turning around.

“Say that again, hyung, I dare -”

“Enough!” you shouted, cutting through their bickering. Both men froze, wide-eyed, and looked at you.

“I'm sure Hyunjin would probably like a say in this whole ‘who’s the dad’ debate.” you said, and the room fell silent.

And then Minho shrugged casually.

“I mean, sure, if we’re counting his five seconds of contribution to this whole thing.”

You and Felix both turned to stare at him, your mouths dropping open in identical expressions of disbelief. It took approximately two seconds before all three of you burst out laughing.

The laughter started light, then turned uncontrollable, your giggles mixing with Felix’s loud snorts and Minho’s chuckles. You laughed so hard your sides started to hurt, but then, without warning, the giggles morphed into something else.

The tears hit you before you could stop them. One moment you were laughing, and the next, you were crying, the overwhelming mix of emotions crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Felix’s smile faltered, and he rushed to your side, wrapping an arm around you.

“George, hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said softly, his usual sunshine dimmed by concern.

Minho was there a moment later, kneeling in front of you and gently resting a hand on your knee.

“Breathe, jagi,” he said quietly. “You’re okay. We’re here.”

You sniffled, trying to compose yourself, but the weight of everything - the pregnancy, the secret, missing Hyunjin - was too much.

“I miss him…a lot,” you managed between sobs.

“I know, I know…but we're here for you, George. You’re not alone in this, okay? We’ve got you.” Felix hugged you tighter, his voice steady but emotional.

Minho nodded as he said, “He’s right. You’re stuck with us now. You and George Jr.”

That earned a watery laugh from you, and you wiped at your eyes, looking between them.

“I don’t deserve you two.”

“Yes, you do,” Minho said firmly.

“Absolutely,” Felix added. “And so does George Jr.”

---

Hyunjin was losing his mind.

It wasn’t just the lingering ache of your absence or the fact that he hadn’t heard your voice in what felt like forever. But it was also Felix, his best friend, his other half, his partner-in-crime. Felix was suddenly a closed book. The guy who usually shared everything, from dumb cat videos to the tiniest gossip about their members, had turned into a human vault. A sketchy human vault.

Felix was constantly disappearing. After practice, during breaks, even in the middle of game nights. When Hyunjin asked, Felix always had some vague excuse.

“Oh, just running errands!”

“Helping out Minho-hyung with something.”

“Had to grab something for George!”

Who the hell was George?

Hyunjin squinted every time Felix made one of these excuses. Since when was his best friend suddenly so obsessed with running errands? And why was Minho always involved?

Hyunjin didn’t like it.

At first, he chalked it up to paranoia. Maybe he was overthinking. Obviously, losing you had him extra possessive and clingy. Maybe Felix and Minho were just…hanging out more? It wasn’t a crime. But then Hyunjin started noticing things.

Felix and Minho were inseparable. They’re always whispering about God-knows-what. They’d vanish together after schedules, not even bothering to invite Hyunjin to join.

So naturally, one evening, after a particularly grueling practice session, Hyunjin cornered Felix in the locker room.

“Lix,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall like he was interrogating a criminal. “Where have you been going all the time?”

And to his credit, Felix didn’t even flinch.

“Oh, nowhere. Just hanging out with Minho-hyung. You know how it is.”

“Since when do you and Minho-hyung have this…whatever-this-is?” Hyunjin narrowed his eyes.

Felix shrugged nonchalantly, pulling his hoodie over his head and saying, “We’ve just been vibing.”

“Vibing?” Hyunjin echoed, incredulous. “You disappear every day to vibe? And what’s with all the whispering during practice?”

Felix zipped up his hoodie and slung his bag over his shoulder.

“You’re being dramatic, Hyun. It’s nothing.”

Hyunjin stared at him, trying to gauge if Felix was lying. But Felix’s face was completely blank, a perfect poker face.

“What about Y/N?” Hyunjin asked, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “Have you…seen her?”

At that, Felix paused, just for a second, but it was enough for Hyunjin to notice.

“I'm sure she’s good, Hyun. Busy probably.” he managed, giving him a smile.

Hyunjin frowned, but before he could press further, Felix clapped him on the shoulder.

“Don’t overthink, mate. Get some rest, yeah?”

And just like that, Felix was gone, leaving Hyunjin standing in the empty locker room, more confused than ever.

---

The next day, Hyunjin had been lingering suspiciously around the studio after practice, pretending to stretch while trying (and failing) to overhear Felix and Minho’s latest hushed conversation.

Chris, so so used to all the bullshit his boys pulled on the regular, had noticed this constant whispering between Felix and Minho, and also Hyunjin’s not-so-subtle attempts to loiter. He clapped his hands loudly.

“Hyunjin, go home. You’re exhausted, mate.”

Hyunjin, startled, stammered something about finishing up but Chris gave him a hard enough glare that had him reluctantly packing up and storming off (throwing one last suspicious glance at Felix, who pretended to be engrossed in tying his shoelaces.)

Once Hyunjin was out the door, Chris turned to Felix and Minho, his arms crossed and his leader gaze set to high alert.

“Okay,” he said, his voice stern, “what’s going on with you two? You’ve been sneaking around like teenagers, and I have a bad feeling about it. Spill.”

Felix and Minho exchanged a glance, before Minho shook his head.

“Nothing’s going on, hyung,” Minho said coolly, leaning against the wall like he wasn’t sweating internally.

Felix, on the other hand, immediately started babbling.

“Oh, you know, just chilling and cooking and - did you know George is a big fan of pumpkin soup? I’ve been learning how to make it. Minho hyung’s been helping…he’s such a perfectionist in the kitchen, but that’s beside the point -”

But the moment ‘George’ left his mouth, Minho sighed.

“Who the hell is George?” Chris interrupted, his sharp eyes narrowing.

Minho sighed, muttering, “Great work, Yongbok.”

Felix blinked rapidly, his face heating up. He could do anything, literally anything in the world. But that anything didn't include lying to Chris.

“Oh, uh, George is just…you know…a friend!”

“A friend? You’ve been disappearing every day, and sneaking around because of a friend?”

Felix opened his mouth, probably to launch into another nonsensical explanation, but Minho cut him off.

“George is Y/N,” he said flatly, like he was tired of the charade.

Chris froze.

“What do you mean George is Y/N?” he asked, his voice rising slightly. “What the hell is going on?”

Felix started flailing, his words tripping over each other.

“It’s not like we didn’t want to tell you, hyung, but it’s complicated, and she’s been going through a lot, and she needs all the help and support with George Jr. -”

“George Jr.?!” Chris exclaimed, his voice now echoing off the walls.

Minho, as calm as ever, pointed at Felix. “You’re making it worse.”

Chris threw his hands in the air as he said, “What is George Jr.?!”

“You mean who is George Jr.? It’s the baby. She’s pregnant.” Minho sighed, rubbing his temples.

The room went silent. Chris blinked several times, his expression cycling through shock, confusion, and then something that could only be described as 'Dad Rage'.

“She’s pregnant?! SHE’S PREGNANT, AND YOU TWO KEPT THIS FROM ME?!”

Felix, now thoroughly panicking, looked at Minho like he was begging for help. Minho just shrugged.

Chris glared at both of them. “You’re taking me to her. Right now.”

---

Ten minutes later, there was a knock at your door. You waddled over and opened it to find Chris standing there, his arms crossed and his eyes full of emotion.

Before you could say a word, he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

“Y/N,” he said firmly, his voice laced with both worry and frustration. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Behind him, Felix stood pouting like a scolded child and Minho looked like he regretted everything.

“Chris,” you gasped, trying to pull back from his hug. “I can’t breathe!”

He released you but kept his hands on your shoulders, scanning your face like a concerned dad. “You should’ve told me. We’re family, Y/N. You thought of doing this alone? Does he know? Oh my god, he doesn't know, does he?!”

From behind him, Felix muttered, “She’s not alone. I’ve been taking care of her.”

Chris whipped around to face him.

“Oh, you’ve been taking care of her, have you?!”

Felix folded his arms, his pout deepening.

“George Jr. is mine. None of you fake dads are gonna ever-”

Minho, who’d been quiet up until now, rolled his eyes and interrupted him.

“Please. You think you’re the dad just because you baked her cookies? Please.”

Felix turned to him, affronted. “You’ve been helping me! And my baby!”

“Oh, for the love of -” Chris groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, before glancing at you. “We're gonna get through this.”

You smiled at them, nodding. But deep inside, guilt gnawed at you. Everyone except Hyunjin seemed to be catching up.

You'd started working from home more and more since you started your sixth month. You came over to the company only when you had something important to do.

This afternoon was supposed to be uneventful. You had planned to drop by the company, grab a few files, and leave quickly. But apparently, fate had other plans.

You were leaving one of the offices when you heard it.

“Y/N?”

The voice was soft, almost hesitant. You froze in place, gripping the files tightly against your chest. Slowly, you turned to see Hyunjin standing a few feet away, his eyes wide as saucers, his gaze locked on you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. His gaze flickered down to your stomach - the not-so-subtle curve of your six-month baby bump that your sweater absolutely failed to conceal under closer scrutiny.

Hyunjin’s face drained of all color.

“What…Y/N…are you…?” he stammered, his voice breaking.

You panicked, taking a step back. “Hyunjin, I -”

But he was already closing the distance between you, his voice rising into a frantic whisper.

“Are you pregnant?!”

You winced, glancing around nervously, but the hallway was thankfully empty. Still, Hyunjin’s voice, even when hushed, completely floored you.

“Hyunjin, let’s not -”

“Are you pregnant?!” he repeated, his voice breaking. His hand gestured toward your stomach, and he looked so utterly wrecked that you couldn’t bring yourself to lie.

So you nodded.

His reaction was immediate. Hyunjin stumbled backward, his eyes welling up with tears, his hands clutching his head as if trying to keep himself from falling apart.

“Oh my God,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Oh my God. Oh my God, it’s mine, isn’t it?”

You swallowed hard, your throat tightening at the sight of him falling apart. “Hyunjin -”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was louder now, no longer a whisper. “That’s my baby! Our baby! And you didn’t tell me?”

“Hyunjin, please,” you begged, trying to calm him, but he was a storm you couldn’t contain.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded again, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I would’ve left everything for you! Don’t you know that? I would’ve -”

You shook your head fiercely, your own tears spilling over now.

“Hyunjin, I couldn't -”

“I don’t care!” he shouted, his voice cracking painfully. “None of it means anything if I don’t have you!”

Before either of you could say more, Chris appeared, obviously having heard the chaos from the other end of the hallway.

“What’s going on here?” he demanded, his eyes flickering between you and the sobbing mess that was Hyunjin.

“Hyung,” Hyunjin sobbed, clutching Chris’s arm as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. “She’s pregnant. She’s pregnant, and she didn’t tell me. That’s my baby.” His voice broke again, and he leaned heavily into Chris, tears falling freely.

Chris’s expression softened instantly, and he glanced at you as you stood rooted to your spot, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Hyunjin, calm down. Let’s talk about this somewhere else, okay?” He tried to guide Hyunjin back toward the practice room, but Hyunjin was not taking orders from anyone at this point.

“No,” he said, his voice trembling. “I’m not going anywhere until she tells me why she didn’t tell me.”

You stepped closer, your heart breaking as you cupped his tear-streaked cheeks with trembling hands. His skin was warm beneath your touch, his eyes red and raw as they searched yours for answers.

“Because,” you whispered, your voice cracking, “I love you. I love you too much to let you give up your dreams for me.”

Hyunjin’s tears fell harder.

“You think I’d regret it?” he choked out. “You think I’d ever regret choosing you? Choosing our baby?”

You shook your head through your tears.

“I couldn’t let you make that choice, Hyun. Not when I knew how much this means to you.”

Before he could respond, Felix and Minho arrived, their worried faces appearing at the end of the hallway. Felix took one look at the scene and immediately rushed to Hyunjin’s side, wrapping an arm around him.

“Hyunjin,” Felix said softly, his own voice shaking. “Come on, breathe.”

Minho, meanwhile, approached you, his arm going around your shoulder, and then glancing at Hyunjin.

“You’re not going to solve anything by falling apart here,” he said calmly. “Pull yourself together.”

But Hyunjin was inconsolable, his sobs growing louder.

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know. She’s been going through this alone, and I didn’t know. What kind of person does that make me?”

You stepped closer, your voice firm as you said, “Hyunjin, stop. You’re not a bad person. This isn’t your fault. If anything, it's mine. For keeping this from you.”

“I want to be there. Oh my God, I love you! Don’t shut me out again,” he whispered brokenly. “Please.”

You nodded, squeezing his hand. “I won’t.”

As Chris and Felix finally led Hyunjin away, Minho stayed behind, pulling you into a hug.

“Well,” he said dryly, “that could’ve gone worse.”

You let out a shaky laugh, wiping your tears. “Could it?”

Minho sshrugged

“At least he knows now. He’ll come around. And when he does…” He smirked faintly. “You’re going to have a hell of a time keeping him out of your hair.”

You sighed, your heart heavy but hopeful. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The company meeting was the stuff of legends. Chris had marched in like the leader of a revolution, Hyunjin trailing behind with fire in his eyes. By the end of it, the higher-ups had no choice but to relent. Hyunjin wasn’t going anywhere. Neither were you. And most importantly, Hyunjin was going to make damn sure his family - you and George Jr. were going to be happy, and with him always.

Now that he was officially back, Hyunjin wasted no time slipping into full-time ‘husband’ mode. His mission? Make up for every second he’d missed. And maybe, just maybe, remind Minho and Felix that while they had been excellent stand-ins, it was time to hand over the reins to the rightful husband.

But, of course, Felix and Minho had no intention of stepping aside without a fight.

---

You and Hyunjin were finally having some well-deserved downtime - he had you nestled against his chest on the couch, his hand resting protectively on your bump. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt calm. Peaceful.

And then Felix appeared.

“Move,” Felix announced dramatically, striding into the room and pointing at Hyunjin like he was accusing him of a crime.

“What?” Hyunjin asked, frowning.

“I said move,” Felix repeated, already wedging himself between the two of you (particularly experienced with this as he'd done it a hundred times before).

You couldn’t help but laugh as Felix threw an arm around you and placed his head on your shoulder.

“Just so you know, Mr. Biological Father,” Felix began, glaring pointedly at Hyunjin, “George Jr. is mine. We share an emotional bond that transcends DNA, okay? And, George? She's mine too. You being back changes nothing.”

Hyunjin’s jaw dropped, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“What are you even talking about?! Why are you still calling her that?!”

Felix huffed dramatically, clutching you tighter.

“Because she’s my George! And I will not stand for you disrupting the sacred trust we’ve built. Now go be useful and bring George her smoothie.”

Hyunjin looked at you, utterly baffled. “You’re seriously letting him call you George?”

“It’s a thing now. I’ve stopped fighting it.” You shrugged, trying to stifle your giggles.

Felix gave Hyunjin a smug grin.

“See? She’s accepted her destiny. Now go.”

Before Hyunjin could fire back, Minho’s voice floated in from the kitchen.

“Yongbok-ah, I’m the one making the smoothie. I know how to serve the smoothie I made. Hyunjin, if you’re so desperate to help, why don’t you go fold the laundry or something?”

Hyunjin groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

“Why am I suddenly the errand boy in my own house?”

Minho appeared in the doorway, smoothie in hand, his expression deadpan.

“Maybe because we’ve been doing all the heavy lifting for months while you were busy, I don’t know, not knowing she was pregnant.” he said, and Hyunjin flinched, clutching his chest like Minho had shot him.

“Okay, low blow.”

“I call it the truth.” Minho smirked.

“Minho hyung and I have carried this team for far too long. You’re going to have to earn your place here, buddy.” Felix said with a grin.

Hyunjin threw his hands up in exasperation and said, “She’s literally my girlfriend! How do I have to earn anything?!”

“George belongs to us, Hyunjin. Now go fold the laundry.” Felix said, waving Hyunjin away.

You burst out laughing, clutching your belly as Hyunjin huffed in annoyance before stomping off. He came back with a basket full of freshly washed and dried clothes, and started folding.

“I’ll fold every piece of laundry in Korea if it means overthrowing these two clowns.”

“You guys are all insane, you know that?” you said, shaking your head.

“We prefer devoted.” Felix grinned.

“Dedicated. Loyal.” Minho nodded.

“Whatever they are, I’ll beat them at it. Just watch.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes but threw you a wink.

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan @hansmic @emilyywhyy @inlovewithstraykids @my-neurodivergent-world @nightmarenyxx @channie4lifeee143127

#skz #stray kids #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #skz x reader #skz fluff #skz angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you #hyunjin scenarios

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iniquitousyearning · 7 months ago

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tom riddle. | everyone has their vices

summary: tom riddle tells you he jerks off (and more) to relieve stress. just….in typical tom fashion.

word count: 2k

tags: 18+, suggestive content, so much tension you’ll choke on it, frustrating subliminal tom riddle (though reader is just as stubborn), flirting, masturbation insinuation, make out sesh.

"But how?”

Tom inhaled sharply, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he prepared to reexplain for what felt like the hundredth time. "Because, the slightest distraction or doubt can result in consequence—as I said previous. A momentary lapse in any of the areas we covered will result in splinching."

You blinked, staring at him like he'd spoken an alternate language. The late night and the relentless focus on Tom's face for the past four hours had blurred everything into a haze and dulled his voice into a monotonous hum, blending with the soft rustle of parchment and the distant lapping of the lake against the window. He could see it—your disconnection, the way his words slipped past you like water through fingers.

He exhaled, slumping back in his chair, a hand raking through his dark hair in frustration. "Should we call it a night?"

"Probably," you muttered, your gaze drifting to the window behind him, the surface of the Black Lake rippling under the moonlight. "You've overloaded my brain. I stopped comprehending two hours ago."

You felt Tom's eyes narrow slightly as he studied you—you must have looked a mess. Strands of hair had fallen out of your ponytail, your uniform shirt was half undone, and there was a dullness in your eyes that spoke of more than just exhaustion. A week bedridden with the flu had set you back, and now, despite Tom's best efforts, you felt like you were drowning.

He knew you were stressed beyond measure—you were normally not like this.

"You need to relax," he said, the words landing with the flatness of an undisputed fact. "You won't retain anything in the state you're in."

"How can I relax when I'm two weeks behind? And exams are next week?" Your voice cracked with the weight of your frustration as you leaned your elbows on his desk, burying your face in your hands. "I'm helpless, Tom. I know you know it."

"Would I be sitting here wasting my time if I thought you were helpless?" He watched you, almost clinical in his intensity as he spoke—tone matter-of-factly, devoid of any false comfort. It cut through your despair with ease. Tom Riddle never did anything without purpose; if he was here, it meant he believed you were worth the effort. "My suggestion is that you reset your brain," he continued, his voice steady like his fingers as he shut the textbook between you. "Take a walk. Have a cold shower. Jump in the lake. Whatever you need to do to decompress."

The simplicity of his suggestions almost made you laugh, but it was the kind of laughter that would easily turn into tears if you let it. Tom had a way of stripping everything down to its most basic form—of cutting through your stress and chaos and presenting you with a simple, unvarnished answer.

You were a mess, and he was telling you to fix it—no coddling, no pity, just a clear-eyed assessment of the situation. And somehow, that was exactly what you needed to hear. You appreciated him for it.

"Decompress, huh. I don't believe I've ever done such a thing." You leaned back in your chair with a lopsided grin, arms crossed. "Is that what you do? Jump in the lake?"

Tom let out a huff, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in what was almost—almost—a smile.

"Something like that."

Interesting—Tom Riddle, always so composed, every inch of him meticulously put together, as if the mere idea of stress was a foreign concept. You couldn't imagine him spiralling, not the way you did—frankly, you couldn't imagine him ever feeling overwhelmed at all.

The curiosity gnawed at you, wondering what he did to unwind—what rituals or habits did the untouchable Tom Riddle indulge in when no one was watching?

"Something else, then?" You pushed it further, gently, your eyebrow arching just slightly.

For a moment, his gaze flickered, something dark and inscrutable passing behind his eyes. You knew he was considering your words, debating whether to indulge your curiosity or keep you at arm's length. Such a fascinating creature he was—all brick walls and boarded windows—you had a feeling he was going to shut this down.

Until, he leaned forward.

"If you're asking if I have habits—I suppose I do," he said, your eyes drawn to the way his lips moved, the way his voice curled around each syllable. "Habitual things I do to—relax, let's say."

You hummed and pulled your lower lip between your teeth as you considered him—fighting to hide your amusement. That was the biggest personal moment you've had out of Tom Riddle since the day you met him in first year where he told you his name.

"Well, isn't that a revelation," you teased, toying with the edge of your skirt. "Just the mere insinuation that Tom Riddle has to do something to relax—as though he's not always cool, calm, and collected like he lets on."

His lips curled slightly at your words, his gaze dipping briefly from your eyes to your mouth, trailing lower in a slow, deliberate sweep that brushed over your chest before landing back on the desk.

Your brain buffered, tingles in the wake of his wrath. He picked up his quill, spinning it idly between his fingers.

"Everyone has their vices—if they don't, they end up like you," he said, his tone laced with an ambiguity that made you wonder just how deep his ran. "Perhaps it's time you found some."

You scoffed, leaning further back in your chair, the fabric of your shirt pulling tighter across your chest. You forced yourself to ignore the visceral reaction your body had as you caught the brief flicker in Tom’s gaze—the way his eyes darted up to the movement before he quickly masked his expression.

For a moment, you thought you might be imagining things, but the tensing of your thighs betrayed a reaction you couldn't quite shake.

"And what are yours?" You asked after a moment, your voice softer now. Tom Riddle was many things, but he was not a conversationalist—and yet here he was, indulging your curiosity instead of shutting it down. He was humouring you, and you intended to make the most of it. "Decompressing with bland tea and ancient tomes? Sneaking into the Restricted Section when no one's looking?"

“Mm, no.” Tom let out a snort, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips— "I’d say my vices are less...pedestrian, than all that."

The quill in his fingers stilled—the change in his demeanour was subtle, though you felt it in the air—electric, making your pulse quicken. He traced the edge of the feather with the tip of his thumb, the motion slow and deliberate, and you found yourself inexplicably distracted, fighting the urge to shift in your seat.

Why in Merlin's name was that so damn captivating?

"Less pedestrian?" You echoed, curiosity at an all-time-high. "What do you do, then, Tom? Dance naked by the light of the full moon?"

"I should hope not," he laughed—a low, rumbling sound that resonated in the pit of your stomach as you giggled alongside him. The quill twirled again in his fingers, the motion languid, almost hypnotic. "No, I'd say my vices are more...private. Less suited to polite company. Perhaps I should let you guess since the mystery of it seems to fascinate you so."

The look he gave you made you stiffen, a challenge—no, a dare—clear in his deep, dark eyes. Your thighs involuntarily reacted again—less suited to polite company?

"I believe I've already made several guesses," you tried to compose yourself with a shallow inhale. "I'm quite at a loss."

He shook his head, stifling his grin. "Clearly, you lack imagination."

"Clearly, you enjoy being cryptic." You shot back, unable to stifle yours.

At that, he hummed—it was obvious your stubbornness was as entertaining to him as it was aggravating. Perhaps you could say the same. He set the quill down, his eyes on yours as the fingers of his free hand began to tap idly on the desk—and then his gaze dipped again, tracing the curve of your lips before drifting lower, a slow, deliberate path that made you tense.

For a moment, you wondered if the tension in the air was all in your head. Was he always this adventurous with his eyes?

"When the mind is under strain," he began, his voice smooth, clinical, "it's a result of an excessive influx of neural signals. Synapses misfire, disrupting cognitive function. A basic physiological response." He watched your reaction closely, as though gauging the impact of his words. "To address such a state, one must reestablish control over these neural pathways. To be direct, I find the most efficacious methods involve tasks that stimulate the senses without being emotionally or physically taxing. A simple, repetitive action can suffice—something arbitrary enough to encourage the subconscious to lose focus."

You fought the urge to scowl at his change in speech—Tom knew damn-well just how overwhelmed your brain was—and then continued to recite scientific jargon as if it were his full-time occupation.

You’d almost be mad if it weren’t for the fucking words that stuck to the inside of your ears—stimulate, repetitive, lose focus—

"You're a walking textbook, aren't you?" You continued to play it off—you didn't want to make assumptions—you hated the way he danced around the edges of things, never quite saying what he meant. "Be specific."

Tom's grin grew as he leaned in slightly, his fingers stilling on the desk between you. "I find tasks that involve the hands particularly useful. Something that can be repeated in a smooth, steady rhythm, with little conscious thought required. The ability to lose oneself in the pattern is key."

Merlin help you—the atmosphere in his dorm had changed with those words; the air turned viscous, cloying, each breath sticking in your throat like syrup—hands, steady rhythm, lose oneself—the words pulsed with implication, even if it was buried under layers of his typical, infuriating ambiguity.

He was absolutely referring to—no—no assumptions—

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. "So...knitting?"

The words tumbled out, a weak attempt at humour to cut through the tension, but they hung lifeless in the air—as hollow as the chuckle that rumbled from Tom's chest.

His eyes traced over you, lingering in a way that made your skin prickle. "Not exactly."

"Hm. A different kind of needlecraft, perhaps." You shifted in your seat, trying to inject a semblance of nonchalance into your posture.

But you weren't fooling him—you never had—

"How much longer are you going to play coy?" He murmured, the amusement clear from light-years away.

Heat surged up your neck, the flush burning across your cheeks, betraying you—"how much longer are you going to continue holding your tongue?"

Your voice came out sharper than intended, laced with a challenge you barely felt capable of meeting. You and Tom had always been cordial, the slight suggestive comment here and there, mostly from your end. But this—oh, this was different—this was uncharted territory.

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous purr. "Would you prefer I do something else with it?"

Oh, fuck yes you would—

"You're being obtuse," you practically choked out, though the words lacked the bite you intended. "Entirely vague."

"I'm being clear," he countered, his gaze never wavering. "But you're being obstinate—willfully ignorant to my meaning because you refuse to acknowledge it without me saying it outright."

The air between you dissipated—you tried to grasp for a coherent thought, something to regain your footing, but your mind faltered, stumbling over the implications of what he was saying. His eyes never left yours—and you watched them deepen in colour, black pupils eating away the rich brown of his irises, darkening with something that made the room feel unbearably small.

You could feel the heat rising in your body, pooling low in your belly. How did he do this to you? How did he turn you inside out with nothing more than words and that infuriating, knowing smile?

"Tell me," you breathed, hating how desperate the words sounded, "what do you do with your hands, Tom?...how do you use them to relieve...stress?"

The second those words left your lips you realized what was truly happening here—Tom Riddle never did anything without intent—every word, every pause, every smirk, was a thread in a web he was weaving, intricate and inescapable. He'd led you here, gently, subtly, with the barest hint of force, and now that you were caught, you realized that you wanted this.

Needed it.

And it was clear he did too. Otherwise you'd never have gotten to this point—he wanted you to push, to dig deeper—your stomach twisting as you watched Tom wet his lips, but there was no smirk on them this time.

Only something intense—jaw set, eyes focused—

"I think we both know what I do with my hands," he whispered, the double entendre clear in every syllable— "you knew exactly what I was insinuating the moment this started."

Your breath snagged in your throat, a tremor running through your entire body as the warmth pooling in your belly began to spread, sinking lower, threading through every nerve. Your vision narrowed, centering entirely on him—his eyes, the curve of his lips, the way his presence seemed to devour the room, leaving no space for anything else.

And then, you nodded, the movement barely there—a subtle acknowledgment of your understanding.

"Do you touch yourself, Tom?..." the words escaped you, a soft, breathy whisper that you could hardly believe were your own. "Or do you touch someone else?"

For a heartbeat, everything seemed to freeze, suspended in the intensity of those questions.

The world narrowed to the point of his gaze, the sharp line of his jaw—the reality of where you were, what you were doing, almost seemed to blur—trapping you both in a moment that felt surreal, like a scene caught in the still frame of a film. Never—never—had you imagined a conversation like this with Tom Riddle, hardly your acquaintance, the untouchable genius of the school.

And yet here you were, heart pounding, every nerve on fire, and Merlin help you, you were going to wring every drop of this out for as long as you could.

He swallowed, and you watched the movement, entranced. "Depends on my level of stress."

Tom's expression was unreadable—except for the subtle tension in his shoulders as he leaned back, spreading his legs a fraction wider, the fabric of his dress shirt straining against the flex of his biceps—

"...and how stressed are you right now?" You whispered, reckless, without a trace of restraint.

Tom's throat bobbed with another swallow, a gesture so simple yet so charged that it sent your pulse roaring in your ears.

"Quite," he murmured, his voice taut, stretched thin. "The past four hours have been rather taxing—wouldn't you agree?”

A nervous laugh bubbled up, escaping before you could stop it. You tried to steady yourself, drawing in a slow, shaky breath. You had never felt so intensely aroused and frustrated in your life, and you knew, without a bloody doubt, that he was perfectly aware of it.

"Are you trying to imply l'm the cause of your stress?"

"On the contrary," he said, his gaze raking over you, his eyes dark and hungry, as if you were something to be consumed, devoured whole. "I'm saying you've exacerbated it. Though I'll concede a fair share of the responsibility—as it is mine, after all."

"How kind of you," you whispered, voice trembling with the effort to maintain composure. "To admit your own fault in the matter."

"I'm a kind man." His voice was a low purr, the kind that seeped into your bones, making your blood thrum with anticipation. "I like to take responsibility for my shortcomings."

Yes, yes—so very kind—

"Then take it."

The words left your mouth before you could second-guess them, a challenge thrown into the thick, suffocating air between you. The tension was a living thing now, colled tight, ready to snap, turning your insides into a churning mess of want and need.

Tom arched an eyebrow.

"Take it?" He echoed. "And what exactly do you want me to take, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart.

The pet name rolled off his tongue with a casual ease that sent a flush of heat straight to your core— the simple word wielded like a weapon, striking you down with its intimacy. There was no denying the power that name held over you, especially when coming from his lips.

"The responsibility..." you whispered, the words trembling as they left you, barely more than a breath. "…for your..." you hesitated, your eyes locked onto his as you finally said, "…shortcomings."

For a moment, everything hung in the balance—until, oxygen extinct, Tom leaned forward, closing the space between you until he was so close you could feel the heat radiating off him, mingling with your own.

Curse this fucking desk between you.

"My shortcomings," he repeated, his eyes flicking to your lips. "Is that all I should take responsibility for?"

"Are you suggesting..." you leaned in as well, the distance between you shrinking to a breath—your gaze drawn to his own mouth—the plush of it, how bad you wanted to feel it against yours, "...there's something else you wish to take responsibility for?"

Said mouth curled into the faintest hint of a smile and witnessing the shift this close felt dangerously religious—as though you'd experienced something sacred not many have before—part of you knew you did.

"Many things," he whispered, the sound soft as velvet, dangerous as a blade. "The list is long and varied..."

The heat in your body was painful—you had never been this close to him, never felt the full weight of his presence bearing down on you like this. His cologne—faint, rich, and so distinctly Tom—overwhelmed you, the same scent he'd worn since you first met him.

It was infuriating, how everything he did was so subtle, simple—yet so fucking intoxicating, so irresistible.

"...I'm not quite sure where to start." His eyes flicked back to yours.

Every word that fell from his lips was a new form of torture, his dark eyes pinning you in place, searing into you. The heat radiating from his body made you want to retreat, to find air, to find space—but the thought of putting any distance between you was unbearable, the need to be near him overriding everything else.

You'd rather lose consciousness than pull back.

"Why don't you start..." you whispered, tilting your head, your teeth grazing your bottom lip. "By fixing the insatiable ache in my curiosity...the one you created when you mentioned how you use your hands...to relieve stress..."

He exhaled, the sound rumbling from his chest like a growl and you could almost imagine that if he parted his lips, you'd glimpse fangs behind them right now—you'd never seen him like this—his gaze predatory, fucking ravenous, and it was as though he could devour you whole if he so chose to.

But you knew better. Tom Riddle would never be so crude. His methods of torment were deliberate—Methodical. A slow depletion of your senses until you're gasping for something only he can give you.

Then, in a voice that was all gravel and silk, he whispered, "is that all that's aching...your...curiosity?"

"Gods no—"

But you never finished that thought—because in an instant, his hand was tangled in your hair, pulling you forward with a force that sent you careening over the desk and into him—Tom Riddles lips crashed against yours, and it was like drowning, his tongue invading your mouth, stealing your breath and dragging all ounces of your cognitive ability along with it.

You were half out of your chair, caught in the gravity of him, unsure if your legs were even working, or if it was his grip alone that held you upright. His free hand found your wrist, pinning it to the desk as his mouth worked you with a fervour that made your head spin. The kiss was incendiary, a wildfire scorching its way through every nerve in your body, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake—the intensity of it, the sheer, unrelenting pressure of his lips on yours, made you wonder how you survived this long without it.

All the heat in your blood pooled low, deep between your thighs, an ache so profound it threatened to consume you. Tom Riddle was about to show you precisely how he used his hands to relieve stress, and Gods, if that wasn’t the only thing you’d ever needed right now.

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oncasette · 2 months ago

Text

𝗣𝗟𝗨𝗦𝗛 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗞

rafayel qi x fem!reader

summary: 1.7k

“Oh, so now you remember me,” he huffs. You attempt to move the bird out of your arms entirely only for Rafayel to forcefully shove him back in place. “Uh-uh, honey. You wanted him there. Made me second choice to a bird that can’t even see you, so hold on tight to him, yeah?”

or the one where rafayel gets jealous of the stuffed toy you've chosen to hold while you sleep.

content: smut, fingering-ish, cumming with clothed (both), ooc!rafayel? i'm still learning how to write him a bit, jealous!raf, little bit of biting, mentions of humping a stuffed animal, dry humping

masterlist

Rafayel’s eyes ache a bit as he trudges his way out of his studio and towards his bedroom—his ass hurts a bit, too, from sitting so long. His brain seems to short circuit as both of his hands attempt to rub at the sore spots. They seem to glitch mid-air, successfully achieving in reaching neither of the areas. By the time he’s reached his room, his fingers have gone a little tingly.

His body lights up a bit when he spots you on the bed. It’s almost instinctual, the warmth that crawls up his spine, through his ribs. Your face is shoved into his pillow, your legs tangled up in the fluffy duvet he’d bought at your recommendation. The plushie in your arms seems like it's being held hostage. His lips quirk a bit as he watches you squeeze the yellow bird tighter to you at the sound of his entrance. You’d come over a while ago, for dinner, initially, and then to stay the night despite Rafayel’s insistence that he had to finish this painting by the morning. He’s happy to see that you’d listened to his telling you not to stay up for him.

“Pretty girl,” he mumbles as one of his knees hits the edge of the mattress. One hand falls over your face and pushes a few stray hairs back away from your forehead. He warms again at the feel of you nuzzling into his palm. He pulls back hesitantly after a beat. The rustling seems to be enough to stir you from your slumber.

“Raf?” you mumble, tugging the plush tighter in your grip.

“Hi, cutie,” he hums as starts to undo the buttons on his shirt. Your gaze, still a bit blurred with sleep, tracks the movement well enough.

“You’ve come back to me,” you purr, stretching your legs out beneath the covers.

The scoff he lets out is softened by the pout on his lips. “You thought I’d stay away?”

His fingers fiddle with the buckle of his belt and he watches your eyes dilate just a bit. Your tongue slips out to wet your lips. It’s like lightning striking Rafayel, the exhaustion draining from his body in a blink.

“C’mere, fishy,” you say. Your voice is nearly a whine as it drips down your tongue.

He shakes his head softly as he yanks the leather through the loops. That gets your bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

“I would, but…” he drags the last word out as he starts to work at the fly of his pants. “Artsy birb seems to be in my spot.”

“No, he’s not, come here,” you beg but you keep the bird held tight.

“Yes, he is, come on,” he huffs once he’s gotten his pants down his thighs. He reaches for the plush only for you to turn away from him at the last second, pressing your face into the fuzz. Rafayel scoffs. His hands land on his brief clad hips as he stares down at you in disbelief.

“Cutie…”

“‘m comfy,” you pout. “Just come lay down. He’s not gonna get in the way.”

Rafayel’s eyes narrow. His cock jumps against his already tight boxers. One knee hits the duvet, then the other, then his hands until he’s leering over your prone form. The chain around his neck dangles dangerously close to your skin, bumping and grazing and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

“Raf?”

Your grip around the plushie loosens, your legs separating instinctively to accommodate his intrusion.

“Hey! He can-“ you’re cut off by your own gasp. Rafayel’s nose nudges along the edge of your shirt, pushing the loose fabric up enough to leave loud open-mouthed kisses along the newly uncovered flesh.

“What’s that?” he asks against your navel. You respond with little more than a breathy whine, trying to shove the bird away from you once again only to have him hold the stuffed animal to your chest with a firm grip. “What’d I say, cutie?”

He nips you once with the flats of his teeth. As he continues to move, you feel his hips pressing harder against your shin, then your thigh, and finally your hip when his tongue brushes the edge of your nipple. Rafayel doesn’t fight you when you shift the bird down to your side seeing as you’ve still got a tight grip on it with one of your hands. The other curls into his mussed up hair.

The sight of you stirs Rafayel deeper, despite the speckle of annoyance—jealousy, over a plushie he’d gotten you—still sitting in his stomach. His tongue laves over your skin, circling the bud while he keeps his gaze locked on yours. You let out what, first, he thinks is one of your pretty little gasps, only for it to morph into a yawn halfway. He bites down harder, then, as his eyebrows knit together in displeasure.

“So, that’s what it is, huh?” he scoffs, moving up your body with much harsher bites and sucks than before. “You don’t love me anymore?”

“No, Raf-“ a real gasp then.

“So mean to me,” he grunts. Still, he can’t help the way his dick grinds down into your hip, or the short pants he lets out against your skin.

“Rafa,” you whine.

He slides up your frame until his face is directly over yours.

“Shh, beloved, you’ve made your choice,” he whispers. His fingers skate up your side so delicately you barely feel them until they’re dipping into your sleep shorts.

“Please,” you say just as the tips of them brush the hem of your panties.

“Hm? Now you want me to give you attention?” he teases.

Rafayel can see how glazed your eyes have become, now. The way your chest heaves with each new intake of breath. The way your hips jump to meet his touch. That’ll show the stupid bird.

The pout on your bottom lips has his cock throbbing, a steady pulse he’s sure you can feel. He mimics the gesture down at you as his hand finally breaches the elastic of your underwear. His index finger quickly slides through your slick before it glides back up to press tight circles against your clit. He revels in the short squeak you let out, briefly wondering if he could get you to make the cute sound again into his phone’s microphone.

“So soft here, cutie,” he huffs as his nose sinks down to run across the edge of your jaw. The chain around his neck pools against your collarbone, the chill of it running straight through to your spine. Almost petulantly, you rut yourself further into his palm, only for him to pull his hand back just enough to release most of the pressure. The layers currently clothing you prevent him from pulling back too far, but it's room enough for you to whimper. It’s only when you’ve settled back down against the mattress that Rafayel begins to move again. This time, with two fingers, he dips down to collect more of the sticky arousal seeping from your neglected hole. You clench at the faint intrusion just as he moves back up to circle your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Despite the–albeit, pitiful–front he’s putting up, Rafayel can’t help his hips from pressing and grinding into your thigh. He wonders, briefly, if you’ve ever used the plush toys he’s won you to get off like this. If you’ve rubbed your puffy clit over them the way he’s currently running his fingers over you. More, he wonders if you’re thinking of him as you do it. He’s the one who won them all for you, afterall. It’d only be fair.

“You gonna cum for me, cutie?” he pants in your ear, his teeth grazing the shell as he moves. You are. He can tell. You’ve soaked his hand, your thighs are clamped tight around his wrist. The hand previously holding the bird has wound itself around his bicep. He needs it, wants it, craves it like the air he breathes. Every whimper and whine falling from your lips is fuel for his own impending orgasm.

You nod against him, your eyes screwing shut. He can feel the way your abdomen tightens and his rutting proceeds to quicken against your side.

“Wanna hear you say it,” he pleads.

“‘M gonna…”

“Come on, I know you can say it for me.” He nips your pulse point.

“Cum… gonna cum,” you pant as your nails dig into the skin of his arm. He’d be smug if he weren’t dangling off the precipice of an orgasm himself.

“Yeah? Then cum for me, honey,” he says. His voice is strained as he attempts to ward his off long enough for you to finish first. Thankfully, his words seem to be the tipping point for you, your head falling back further into the plush pillows as your pussy pulses and gushes against his fingers. Rafayel cums with a low groan, spilling into the silken fabric of his boxers. He continues to work you through it for a moment longer until he no longer feels the residual twitches of your cunt.

“All of that because you were jealous of a stuffed bird,” you hum sleepily. The two of you shift once he removes his hand from your bottoms, you falling over onto your side and Rafayel pushing up onto his haunches to observe the scene. Artsy birb had been pushed onto the floor, his boxers had darkened considerably in a large patch over the head of his cock, and his fingers were still glistening with the remnants of your orgasm. Mission accomplished, he thinks, before he’s slipping off the bed with a chaste kiss to your shoulder.

He’s quick to clean himself up and change into a more suitable pair of boxers. The chill of the room leaves him shivering up until the moment he’s sliding underneath the covers to pull you into him.

Rafayel’s lips trail across your jaw once more as he mumbles, “I wasn’t jealous.”

“Sure,” you mumble, the allure of sleep calling you back down into its depths once more.

#rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel smut #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace #lads #lnds #rafayel love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace smut #rafayel x mc

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ourdawnishotterthanourday · 9 months ago

Text

RAW [M] — Lee Seokmin

✧ If you're a freak and you know it, clap them cheeks ✧

In which Seokmin, your sweet doting boyfriend, fucks you raw for the first time, and ends up discovering his kinky side.

✧ Genre: domestic AU; SMUT [18+], established relationship ♥ Pairing: female!reader x boyfriend!Lee Seokmin ✧ Word count: 6.3k+ ✦ Warnings: nsfw warnings under the cut! ✎ Notes: hope y'all enjoy this little seok fic I wrote for you 🤭 was feeling a little feral, so this concept fit my mood perfectly hehe ♕ Shout out: thanks to my amazing bestie @whipped-for-kpop-fics for making me this masterpiece of a banner AND helping me brainstorm for this one. This one really couldn't have happened without you and your shrexy brain! I love youuuuu 💖 and thank you thank you thank you @wonuvs for beta-reading this for me!! Very much appreciated :3

♡ REBLOGGING AND/OR FEEDBACK WOULD BE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED — DON'T BE A STRANGER PLS ♡

nsfw warnings: outdoor/public sex, fingering, cunnilingus, squirting, spanking, raw sex (the title is there for a reason hehe), heavy breeding kink, feral seok dirty talk, messy creampie (pls let me know if I missed any!)

You had every intention to hang the wet laundry out to dry on this beautiful sunny day. It was a simple task, really, one you could have completed in less than five minutes had you not let yourself get distracted.

Said distraction came in the form of Lee Seokmin, your sweet doting boyfriend of four years, who had decided to take advantage of the nice weather and switch his usual gym session for a home workout in your garden.

It was quite the sight as he sat on the weight bench, his gorgeous sun-kissed arms and legs on full display, toned muscles pulling and coiling with every raise of his arms. His skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat, making his brown locks stick messily to his forehead. It was almost as if he was chiseled by the gods themselves with how absolutely breathtaking he looked in the bright and glowy sunlight.

You had to resist looking over every few seconds as you attempted to put the laundry pieces on the clothes line. But as the minutes passed, you quickly discovered that trying to suppress the urge to gawk at your hot boyfriend was a battle you weren’t going to win, especially when he was constantly releasing those sinful grunts that sent your mind into a frenzy.

Before you knew it, the laundry was long forgotten. The only thing that was going through your mind in that moment was how much you wanted — no, needed — to feel Seokmin’s sweaty body against yours. Thanks to your busy and exhausting schedules, it had been a few days since you and your boyfriend last had sex, which, with a sex drive as high as yours, had driven your need for the man to an all time high.

It was time to do something about that.

Your legs were already moving on their own accord as your hungry gaze settled on Seokmin’s thick thighs, a mischievous smile overtaking your features as you planned out your next move.

Your boyfriend was completely lost in his own world, totally oblivious to the thirsty thoughts floating around in your head as you crept up on him. The headphones he wore drowned out any distracting sounds as he focused on his reps, and with his eyes fully closed, he did not hear you approach him until it was already too late.

“What the f— baby?!” Seokmin nearly dropped the two 8kg dumbbells he was holding when you jumped him out of nowhere, trapping him with your arms and legs like a clingy koala.

“That’s me.” You giggled at the dazed look on your boyfriend’s face as you uncovered his ears.

“What’s the meaning of this?” he breathed, carefully lowering his arms to place the dumbbells into the grass.

You licked your lips, shifting your hips slightly to get more comfortable. “What does it look like?”

“Like you’re trying to kill me,” he groaned before firmly planting his hands onto your sides to get you to stop rubbing against his crotch.

A sly grin tugged at the corners of your mouth. “That’s what I was trying to go for.”

“Oh, were you now?” He raised his eyebrows. “I was almost done with my workout, you know?”

“Hmm, that really sucks then.” You tangled your fingers in his messy hair.

“Give me five more minutes,” he mumbled, briefly closing his eyes at the feeling of your nails scratching along his sensitive scalp.

“No,” you whined, immediately stopping all movement, much to your boyfriend's disappointment. “I need attention now. It's been too fucking long already.”

You didn't care how whiney you sounded. You needed him right at this moment, and you sure as hell weren't going to wait another minute, especially not for him to finish his damn workout.

“But I'm sweaty,” he argued with a scrunch of his nose.

You smirked at that, tightening your grip on his hair as you moved in closer, your lips now less than an inch apart.

“Even better,” you whispered before teasingly brushing your lips against his. “You're fucking hot when you're sweaty,” you continued, which was followed by you shifting your hips once again, this time with a little more force.

Seokmin released a sharp hiss at the throbbing sensation your hips left in their wake. The muscles in his thighs automatically tightened, and so did the grip on your waist, all of which you were more than excited about. You got him right where you wanted, and it was only a matter of time before he would take the bait.

“You're the devil.”

“Only when I have to be.” You grinned, your big twinkling eyes glued to his face as you slowly began to trail one of your hands down his chest. You only stopped when you reached the now very prominent bulge in his black shorts.

“Fucking hell,” Seokmin cursed under his breath when you gave him a little experimental squeeze. It was just a simple touch, but he already felt the arousal gradually starting to overtake his mind and body. Just a minute ago, he’d been in full workout mode, but now he suddenly couldn’t stop imagining you stuffed full with his cock, begging him to make you cum again and again until you could no longer move.

You took advantage of the moment and closed the little bit of distance between you to pull him into a deep kiss. Seokmin didn’t resist, already having decided that he’d much rather spend his time pleasuring his pretty and horny girlfriend instead of finishing the remainder of his stupid arm reps. Besides, you were right. It had been a while since he’d gotten his dick wet, so if you wanted to change that, who was he to object?

It only took a few seconds before Seokmin’s lips were just as hungry and forceful as yours, pulling at your mouth with an eagerness that made your gut clench with anticipation.

His hands navigated down to the swell of your ass, fingers digging roughly into the soft fabric of the yellow sundress you were wearing to press you into his growing erection. You moaned into the kiss at the sudden shift, your own hands moving to grasp at whatever piece of bare skin you could find as you felt yourself grow hotter by the second.

Your patience was slowly beginning to run thin the longer you sat in his lap with your panties soaked and your neglected cunt begging to be filled. You honestly hadn't felt this needy in a while, so you really didn't want to deprive yourself of Seokmin’s dick for much longer. And you prayed that he felt the same.

You knew the man liked to drag the whole thing out with a shit ton of foreplay, which often included endless make out sessions and bringing you to multiple squirting climaxes before he even got to fuck you. It was the whole reason sex with Seokmin had become one of your favorite pastime activities in the first place.

Your boyfriend was a natural at pleasuring you, and he had been since day one. You quickly learned that faking pleasure and Seokmin could never belong in the same sentence. In fact, more often than not, you’ve had to beg him to stop making you cum for fear of passing out from over stimulation. But even in those moments, he usually still managed to pull another few mind-shattering orgasms out of you like the magician he was, and you were certainly not complaining.

It was just that right now, in this particular moment, you needed him to skip the long foreplay and fastforward to the part where he fucked you stupid.

“Min, I need you inside me so bad,” you whimpered in between kisses, hoping your boyfriend would get the hint and give you just that.

He did not get it.

All you got out of it was an appreciative grunt and a harsh squeeze to your backside that did nothing to satiate the pulsing ache in your pussy.

Accepting that you were just going to have to speed things up yourself, your hand sneakily found the waistband of his shorts, fingers already tugging the material out of the way to grab a hold of his hard dick. If everything worked out in your favor, you'd be sitting on it within the next twenty seconds.

“Fuck, baby,” Seokmin groaned, one of his hands clasping around your wrist before you even had the chance to wiggle your hand inside his shorts. “Why don't we go inside before we start ripping off clothes, hmm?”

“No.” Confusion. That’s the emotion that flashed across your boyfriend’s face at the sound of your outright no.

“No? But I thought you wanted to…?” He frowned, slightly loosening his hold on you when he thought you didn’t want to continue.

You quickly wrapped his arms back around your waist before grasping his face in your hands.

“Oh, I do.” A cheeky grin pulled at your mouth. “Right here. You're fucking me here.”

“Right here? O-outside?” Seokmin stuttered, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he seemed to process your words.

Although your sex life was pretty active and more than satisfying, you couldn’t exactly call it adventurous. Despite many of your close friends believing that you and Seokmin were a couple of kinky fuckers, your sexual escapades were usually limited to your bedroom and definitely more on the vanilla side of the spectrum.

Not that there was anything wrong with that, of course. On the contrary, even the most vanilla sex with him felt a hundred times better than the riskier and more experimental sex you’d engaged in with some of your exes, so you didn’t even really miss it. Still, sometimes — like right now — you wished he’d just throw you around and fuck you into the next day for everyone to see.

You were, however, very much aware that asking him to fuck you in the garden was a complete one-eighty from your usual bedroom adventures, and it could potentially get you caught by your nosy old neighbors, which was definitely a con. But then again, you were feeling unusually risky today, so you honestly couldn't care less who got to see you getting railed. Your only concern right now was soothing the ache in your throbbing cunt.

All you had to do was convince your lovely, handsome boyfriend to make that happen.

“Yes, right here.” You nodded and reached up to undo the first two buttons of your dress, taking note of how your boyfriend's eyes automatically gravitated towards your fingers. “Got a problem with that?”

“Well, uh…” Seokmin swallowed thickly as you popped three more buttons, exposing the strapless, lacy, white see-through bra you were wearing underneath. Your hard peaks were poking right through the flimsy material, which made it nearly impossible for him to rip his eyes away from the arousing sight. Your boyfriend was a sucker for your boobs — or any part of your body for that matter — which is exactly why you hoped the next part of your plan would work.

“I think— uh…” He tried to form a coherent sentence, but failed terribly when you popped another three buttons, his eyes following diligently as your action revealed the smooth skin of your stomach. “What I’m trying to s— that…”

By the time you popped the remaining three buttons, Seokmin had completely forgotten what he was going to say. His eyes were practically glued to your body, in particular to the matching see-through panties that left little to the imagination. They gave him a perfect view of your puffy folds and the arousal seeping through the already drenched material.

Seokmin was — understandably — having a hard time keeping it all together.

“Well?” You suppressed a grin to hide the fact that you were thoroughly enjoying the effect you had on your handsome boyfriend. “You gonna help me undress or do I have to do everything myself?”

You got your answer when he planted his lips back on yours without another word, hardly giving you a second to breathe as he pushed his tongue past your lips. You instantly melted against him as your body flooded with heat once more, your hands fumbling to grasp onto his shirt in an attempt to ground yourself.

Seokmin’s fingers made quick work of your bra, skillfully unclasping the constricting garment and throwing it carelessly in the grass. He took a moment to admire your newly exposed flesh, eyes darting from one nipple to the other before they drifted back down to the drenched panties hugging your cunt.

He subconsciously licked his lips as he imagined his face buried between your legs, drowning himself in the taste of your sweet juices while you screamed out his name.

“Stop staring like a creep and do something, please.” Your hand was back in his hair, fingers tightly gripping onto his locks as you pulled at his head, forcing him to rip his eyes away from your pussy and back up to your face.

“You want me to do something?” An amused smile took over your boyfriend's features as he took in your desperate expression.

“Yes!” you nearly cried, feeling seconds away completely losing your shit. “I swear to god, Seokmin. If your dick is not inside me within the next twenty seconds I’ll d— ah!”

You didn’t get to finish the rest of your sentence as you were cut off by your own shriek, eyes going wide with shock as you gaped at a smug-looking Seokmin. Just a second ago, you’d been sitting in his lap, but now you suddenly found yourself trapped beneath him, sprawled out on the metal workout bench and completely at his mercy.

“You'll do what, baby?” Seokmin smirked triumphantly at your stunned face.

“Forget that,” you breathed, using the grip you had on his hair to pull him in for another kiss. “Fuck, that was hot. I want more where that came from.”

“Noted.” His eyes darkened as he pulled back slightly, and you released the grip you had on his head to allow him to lean back further.

Your belly fluttered with anticipation when he moved the fabric of your dress aside to make contact with your bare skin. His hands teasingly began to trail down your sides, sending a series of tingles down your spine as you let your mind run wild with desire.

A shaky breath left your mouth when your boyfriend hooked his fingers into your underwear, excitement filling your body instantly. You were already starting to lift your hips, eager to help him get rid of the one thing separating your cunt from his hungry gaze.

What you didn’t expect was for him to pin you back down and tear your panties right off your body with a single move. You were left speechless once again, watching as your boyfriend proudly held up the torn lace before letting it fall to the ground.

That was definitely going on your ‘Hottest Lee Seokmin Moments’ list.

“You’re really trying to drive me insane over here,” you mumbled when you’d finally found your voice again.

“You ask, I deliver.” Seokmin chuckled and continued to pull his shirt over his head in one smooth movement, revealing a set of mouthwatering glistening abs and a little dark happy trail that disappeared into his black shorts.

“Good.” Your eyes shifted back up to his with a new determination, your legs slightly opening to give him a nice view of your slick cunt. “Then I’m asking you to fuck me next.”

With one hand, you reached for the waistband of his shorts, fully intent on tugging it down just enough so you could pull his dick out and guide it into your dripping hole.

But Seokmin had other plans.

“Now what?” you whined when his hands stopped you mid-move, wrapping themselves around your wrists just like he’d done before.

What would it take for a girl to get some dick from her boyfriend?

“Not so fast, baby. I'm gonna take care of you first.”

You shook your head in protest. “But I don’t want to wait any longer, Min. Please.”

“Do you want my dick or not, baby?” You’d never nodded faster. “Then be a good girl and spread those legs wider for me.”

That little command had you automatically spread your legs wider, a soft moan rolling off your lips as your walls clenched hard around nothing. Never in the time you’d been with Seokmin had he called you a good girl, but you found that you liked it… a lot. And you wouldn’t mind if he called you that more often from now on.

“Oh? Does my baby like being called a good girl?” Seokmin smirked, his dark orbs burning into your own as he pushed your legs back as far as you could manage.

“Yes, fuck… so hot,” you whimpered, your legs twitching when you felt his hot breath ghost over your glossy cunt.

“Keep being good and I’ll keep calling you that,” he murmured right before dipping his tongue between your slick folds.

The debauched moan you released in response was enough to make Seokmin’s cock jerk uncontrollably inside his shorts. In return, he released a deep groan of appreciation, sending a wave of delicious vibrations to your core that automatically had you try to clamp your legs around your boyfriend's head. But Seokmin, who was way ahead of you, had such a tight hold on your thighs that it was nearly impossible to move.

He used that grip to bury his entire face in your pussy, hardly giving himself room to breathe to completely drown himself in the taste of you, determined to get you to squirt your juices all over his face.

With his skillful tongue alternating between flicking and sucking on your sensitive clit, applying just the right amount of pleasure in all the right spots to bring you to the edge, it took less than a minute before you were moaning his name like a mad woman.

Seokmin relished in the lewd sounds he pulled from you, and the way you desperately gripped at his hair to steady yourself as he devoured you, completely drunk on the taste of your pussy. His dick was painfully hard, straining against the inside of his shorts, practically begging him to relieve some of that agonizing tension. But in all honesty, chasing his own pleasure was the last thing on his mind right now. All that mattered was you, your climax, and nothing else.

It was even at the point that he'd momentarily forgotten you were doing all of this outside, in the garden, where any neighbor would be able to hear or see the obscene things he was doing to you. Not too long ago, Seokmin would have reeled at the thought of engaging in risky public sex, but now, here he was, eating you out in the garden and enjoying every bit of it, not a single fuck given.

You found yourself in a similar position, eyes rolled to the back of your head and your body twitching and shuddering from the overwhelming sensations coursing through your nerves. It wasn’t exactly how you’d planned things to go — still no dick — but it certainly helped quench the worst of your sexual cravings. The way the coil in your stomach got tighter and tighter with every swipe of his tongue said enough.

“F-fuck that’s gonna make me cum so fast, holy shit!” you whimpered when your boyfriend suddenly slid two of his long fingers inside you, immediately curling them up to press against that sensitive spot he knew would make you lose your mind.

Seokmin only hummed against your pussy, his eyes catching yours as the corners of his mouth tugged up into a devilish smirk. Then, his hand was speeding up, fingers mercilessly batting against your sweet spot while his tongue lapped at your swollen clit. He watched you succumb to the pleasure with hungry eyes, your face contorted in pure ecstasy as your moans got louder and louder the closer you got.

“You like that, baby?” your boyfriend rasped, his mouth briefly detaching from your clit.

Your cunt clenched around his fingers in response, the only sound coming out of your mouth being a needy whine since you couldn’t find it in yourself to come up with a sane response with how scrambled your mind was.

That was met with a sharp nip at your swollen nub.

“Answer me,” Seokmin growled, apparently not satisfied with your lack of words.

You yelped loudly at the unexpected but very welcoming stinging sensation that had your nerves singing with pleasure. “Shit— yes! I fucking do!”

“That’s a good girl,” he praised with a harsh slap to your inner thigh before taking your clit back between his wet lips.

The sound of the pet name unraveled something inside you, drawing every muscle in your body taut as you were abruptly thrown over the edge. The full force of your toe-curling orgasm caused you to cry out your boyfriend’s name, your legs trapping his head between your thighs while drenching his pretty face with your arousal.

Seokmin was perfectly content like that, groaning into your cunt like a starved man as he tried to catch every last drop of your slick with his mouth. Even when you began pushing at his head to get him away from your overstimulated pussy, it took him another twenty seconds before he finally detached himself, looking up at you with a dopey, satisfied grin and his chin dripping with your arousal.

“You’re insatiable, Lee Seokmin,” you rasped, chest heaving as you tried to recover from the intense high you’d just experienced.

Said man leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss right below your belly button.

“Yes,” He moved up slightly, this time placing a kiss right above it, “I am.” His lips trailed over your breast, goosebumps forming along the way, “But…” He nipped at your neck, “you…” he whispered, his lips hovering right above yours, “were so good for me,” he finished, capturing your lips into another heated kiss.

The taste of yourself on your boyfriend’s lips lit a new fire inside your belly, your skin flushing hot with a new surge of desire. It also didn’t help that his hands were back on your thighs, kneading and rubbing at them, making every one of your nerve endings come back to life under his scorching touch.

“Min, get your dick out and fuck me,” you mumbled against his lips, determined to not take no for an answer this time.

Seokmin was fully prepared to give into your demands this time, no longer wanting to tease you because he was feeling just as desperate and eager to be inside you. There was, however, just one little thing he hadn’t thought of before. But now with you sprawled out before him in all your naked glory, begging for his cock, the little voice in the back of his mind decided to make an appearance.

“Fuck.” He grimaced. “Just hold on, okay? I’ll be right back,” he said, leaning forward to kiss you softly before making a move to get up.

You quickly grabbed onto his arm to stop him, confusion taking over your features at the sudden switch in mood.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“Condoms… don’t have any on me. I’ll quickly grab one from inside.”

“We don’t need them,” you blurted out, immediately biting your bottom lip when you realized what you'd said.

Seokmin’s eyes visibly widened at your bold suggestion. “But you're not on any birth control. I could actually get you pregnant.”

“Would it really be that bad?” At that, the man’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

The topic of kids was nothing new between the two of you. It had come up on multiple occasions during the span of your relationship, and it was pretty clear that both you and Seokmin loved kids. The both of you always jumped at the chance of babysitting his two year-old nephew whenever Seokmin’s sister and her husband needed someone to watch him, happy to spoil him and play with him as if he was your own.

It was no secret that you wanted a big family, and so did Seokmin, so that wasn’t the reason he was a little hesitant to fuck you without protection. He just really didn’t want you to regret anything if you did end up pregnant by the end of it, because a child was a big responsibility after all.

But he also couldn’t deny that he wasn’t tempted by the idea of your warm walls hugging his dick without anything in the way, and being able to empty his load inside your greedy, slick-covered hole like he’d always wanted to do.

It was hard not to give in to that, especially when you were looking at him with those big, seductive eyes of yours.

“Baby, I’m serious.”

“So am I,” you shot back, a mix of determination and lust adorning your face as you challenged your boyfriend.

Seokmin frowned, running a hand through his damp hair. “We should think about this…”

“I already did, and I want this. I wanna feel you… all of you… inside me.” You looked up at him with the biggest puppy eyes you could muster.

“Fuck, you’re not making it easy for me,” your boyfriend sighed, feeling completely torn between doing the responsible thing and giving in to his carnal desires.

“Then stop thinking and just fill me with cum.”

Seokmin gulped, letting out a shaky breath as he felt himself slowly start to lose the battle.

“Shit. Are you absolutely sure about this? Is this really what you want, baby?” he asked, placing his hands on either side of the bench to cage you in.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning up to touch your nose to his. “If you're asking me if I want you to fuck a baby in me then yes, I totally want that,” you breathed, a small smile gracing your face.

Seokmin’s dick twitched in his shorts at your declaration, unlocking a new level of desire that he didn’t know existed. His body was full-on buzzing, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he felt the gears in his mind switch to a whole different setting.

You noticed the change in your boyfriend the moment the words had left your lips, the uncertain expression that had been on his face just now making way for a much more ominous expression, one you didn’t quite recognize.

“Min?”

“Bend over.”

“O-okay.” The slight edge to his tone had you scrambling to turn around for him, nearly causing you to fall off the bench in the process as your legs got tangled up in your dress. You planned to rip the clothing piece off your body to make your life easier, but the sudden hand pinning your wrist to your back made that impossible.

“Dress stays on,” your boyfriend’s low voice sounded from behind you as you felt him flip up the material to reveal the supple skin of your ass.

You were about to protest, but the harsh slap to your behind that followed made you think twice about opening your mouth. The impact of his hand connecting with your tender skin pulled a soft whine from you, leaving you with a pleasant stinging sensation that sent a hot streak of arousal right down to your pussy.

There was barely any time to recover from the first slap before he delivered a second one, this one even more intense and brutal than the last one, forcing you to fight down a scream as you jolted forward, barely able to keep your balance since you only had one hand available to steady yourself.

Your boyfriend was no stranger to delivering the occasional slap to your ass, but it had always been in a loving kind of way and never like this… so rough and thrilling. So if this kind of spanking was your boyfriend’s reaction to seeing you bent over in your half-discarded dress, then you had no problem keeping it on.

“Such a good girl for me,” Seokmin groaned, his cock twitching once again as he watched your ass jiggle for a third time when his hand reconnected with your delicate flesh. You could only moan in response as you felt yourself get wetter with every slap, hand gripping onto the bench for dear life while you let your boyfriend have his way with you.

Only after the tenth slap or so, when Seokmin noticed your legs were close to giving out on you, he released the wrist he was holding and allowed you to take a breather while he rushed to shove his shorts and underwear down his legs, finally freeing the raging boner he’d been neglecting for the past twenty minutes.

The man didn’t waste any time as he grabbed onto your waist with one hand, lining up his engorged tip with your dripping cunt with the other.

A shudder ripped through him when he pushed forward, greedy eyes fixed on his cock disappearing between your ass cheeks, slowly getting enveloped by your tight walls as they made room for him.

It was unlike any feeling Seokmin had ever experienced. Although he was barely halfway inside, he was sure he wasn’t going to last as long as he usually would have. Without the usual barrier in the way, he was able to feel it all, every little sensation — the warmth radiating off your walls as he slid in further, your creamy slick drenching his cock from head to base — it took everything in him to stop himself from bursting as he imagined how good you’d look with your ripe cunt stuffed full of his seed.

Seokmin’s pupils were fully blown by the time your ass connected with his pelvis, his jaw clenched and the grip on your waist bordering on bruising as he momentarily stilled to let you both get used to the new feeling.

You weren’t doing much better, trying to deal with the blissful ache whirling in your stomach as you tried to accommodate the familiar stretch. Only this time, you were able to actually feel the bulging veins forking along his length as they throbbed against your inner walls in the most intoxicating way.

“Shit, Min,” you moaned, tightening your grip on the bench, “Just fuck me already. Feels so damn good like this.”

At your plea, Seokmin pulled his hips back slightly, slowly dragging his throbbing tip along your sensitive walls before abruptly burying his entire girth back inside your warm cunt with a loud groan.

“Yeah? Like that?”

“Yes… harder,” you whined, impatiently wiggling your ass in search of more of that delicious friction.

“Fucking gladly,” he muttered, moving one of his hands to your shoulder before repeating the motion again, only this time with a lot more force and speed, which earned him a series of salacious moans that went straight down to his pulsing cock.

It didn't take long for Seokmin to completely lose every bit of sanity he possessed as he vigorously drove his hips into your ass, your pussy squelching loudly every time his cock slammed back inside your slippery hole.

He’d never felt like this before… fully overtaken by this primal need to breed you like the good girl you were, completely set on ruining you with his cock and stuffing load after load of cum inside your hot cunt until you couldn’t fit anymore.

The regular Seokmin, aka the sweet man who made you breakfast every day and made sure you had absolutely everything you could wish for, would have been a messy blushing puddle with all these nasty thoughts running through his mind. But this Seokmin, the pussy drunk, sex-crazed man who was fucking you as if his life depended on it, only felt himself get more riled up with every new lewd thought that entered his mind, not feeling bashful in the slightest.

You honestly didn’t know where the hell this Seokmin had come from, but you hoped that this wouldn’t be the last of him. His rough thrusts had you feeling like a complete wreck in the best sense of the word, causing you to release an obscene number of sounds you didn’t even know you could make. It was no doubt the best dicking your boyfriend had ever given you, but too much for your body to keep up — you discovered that when your legs suddenly decided to give out on you mid-thrust.

Fortunately, your boyfriend was prepared and caught you just in time, firmly wrapping one of his beefy arms around your tits to press you against his bare chest, while his free hand clamped around your neck, forcing you to tilt your head up to the clear blue sky as he continued to pound into your sopping cunt.

“Fuck, gonna fill this pussy,” Seokmin growled into your ear, his breath hot against the side of your face. “Gonna fill it with my cum, fucking show the world you’re mine… get your pretty belly round with my baby,” he continued, never slowing down his unrelenting pace.

“God, yes!” you moaned, eyes once again rolling to the back of your head as your walls fluttered in response to the filth rolling off your boyfriend’s tongue.

“Dirty girl. You like the thought of me fucking a baby into you?”

”Y-yes, fuck… want it, want your baby!”

You didn’t think it was possible but Seokmin’s hips sped up even more after you’d said that, making you cry out loud as you clung onto his forearm to center yourself.

“Gonna fill you up like you deserve, stuff you full till you can’t walk. This pussy is fucking mine… mine to claim.” Seokmin had fully lost himself at this point, spewing all the filth he could think of, completely and utterly enthralled by your sweet raw cunt sucking him in so deliciously.

“Oh god, Min, need you to cum in me,” you rasped, feeling the coil in your stomach start to wind and tighten as your boyfriend continuously battered against your sweet spot.

“So fucking desperate. Such a good girl.” That was the moment Seokmin released your throat and lowered his hand to attach his fingers to your clit, rubbing sloppy figure eights into it while his dick continued to stretch you out.

“Faster… faster,” you urged, feeling your body tense at the sudden surge of pleasure shooting through you.

Seokmin listened to your pleas and sped up his fingers.

“Oh, fuck, right there,” you whined, feeling like you couldn’t hold it anymore. “Gonna cum… gonna cum!”

White briefly flashed before your eyes as you came with a choked gargle of your boyfriend’s name, your cunt clenching around his cock as your body shook violently from the overwhelming sensations.

Seokmin didn’t stop at that, feeling like he was seconds away from reaching his own high. With your fluttering cunt continuing to hold his dick in a chokehold, and you begging for his cum in his ear, it didn’t take him long to get there.

With one last well-timed thrust, Seokmin buried himself all the way inside you, letting his own orgasm wash over him as he felt the first spurts of cum coat your inner walls. Both of you groaned in delight at the unfamiliar but arousing feeling of Seokmin’s cum filling you up for the first time.

Heat bloomed inside you as your boyfriend continued to spill inside you, holding tightly onto you as he rode out the remainder of his climax.

“Fuck, Min, so much cum,” you whimpered when you felt his seed begin to drip out of your swollen cunt and down your thighs. That’s how much there was. It felt like there was no end to it.

“Pussy feels so fucking good, can’t stop cumming,” he panted against your neck, moving his hands to rest on the smooth skin of your stomach.

You smirked, tightening your walls momentarily to pull a little whine from your boyfriend.

“Well, let’s say that I’m not complaining.”

Only when Seokmin’s cock had fully softened and there really was no more cum to give, he reluctantly pulled out of you, not being able to stop himself from gawking at the big globs of cum dripping out of your pussy with his cock no longer holding it in.

“Min?”

”Huh?”

Despite your extremely wobbly legs, you managed to turn around and threw yourself at the man in front of you, wrapping your arms around his neck as you stared into his eyes with a cheeky smile on your face.

“I love you, you know that? You’re a fucking freak!”

Seokmin’s cheeks began to flush at your exclamation, his eyes quickly averting yours in an attempt to escape your intense gaze.

“Oh…. uh, that? Well…” he stammered, one of hands coming up to rub at his neck.

“Are you seriously acting all shy on me now when you just fucked my brains out?” You giggled, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Well, when you put it like that…” He chuckled, a dopey grin on his face.

“Promise me you’re gonna show this side of you more often.”

Seokmin raised his brows in surprise. “You sure? It wasn’t too much?”

“Fuck no.” You shook your head. “It was definitely some of the best dick you’ve given me.”

“I guess I have no choice then, do I?” He smiled widely.

“Nope. Besides,” You leaned in to kiss him softly before whispering seductively, “if you wanna give me a baby, we better do that many more times, just to be sure.”

“You’re absolutely right.” Then your boyfriend scooped you up without another word, your surprised shriek echoing through the garden as he hurried to rush you inside the house, eager to do it all over again.

© All rights reserved — ourdawnishotterthanourday // Please do not repost or edit any of my works without my permission!! If you see any of my works outside of this Tumblr, pls report it to me asap. Thank you in advance!

HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED THIS LITTLE SEOK SMUT HEHE! Would be amazing to hear your thoughts on this one 😋 and PLEASE look forward to the next one 👀 I got some good ideas planned for y'all!

☀ if you want to be added to my PERMANENT tag list for upcoming works (MAINLY NSFW, SO 18+), leave a comment below or send me an ask, but be sure to mention PERMANENT TAG LIST if you choose to send an ask! If you wish to be removed, also send me an ask!

⚠️ Please note that this is NOT the same tag list as the SEVENTEEN World one!

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brooke121000 · 2 months ago

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aftercare • s. reid

summary: in which Spencer and Reader have a rough night together, and in the morning he worries wether he hurt her or not.

contains: vague descriptions of s3x.

———————————౨ৎ———————————

Your heart was rushing, your face was hot, and your nerves were shot to high hell. To say that Spencer had railed you would be an understatement. You two had been up for a while- it was a weekend, so you didn’t have the usual threat of your 8:00 alarm putting a damper on the night. By the morning, Spencer had woken up first.

He sat up and ran a hand through his hair, sighing and turning to observe your sleeping form.

Your neck was riddled in hickeys, your face tear-streaked and flushed. Eyes softening, he ran a hand over your arm and pulled the blanket further over your bare torso, hoping to at least cease your shivering.

The contact was enough to rouse you from your sleep. Your breath steadied, eyes flickering open.

“Hey, sweet girl.” Spencer murmured, his voice gentle and amorous.

You had looked up and seen him- his head was tilted to the side, features tense. “hey- what’s up?”

“Nothing-“ he shook his head. “Do you feel alright?”

“Mhm.”

He pulled you in closer to him, pressing a kiss to your nose- but his expression was unmistakable.

You met his eyes. “Penny for your thoughts?”

There was a comfortable silence for a while- before he finally spoke.

“Nothing, it’s just, uh- you cried.”

You paused for a moment- he was holding your face, his thumb trailing down your jaw and to your neck.

“..I did.” You finally spoke.

….

“It’s okay, Spence.” You smiled. “If I wanted you to stop I woulda told you.”

“Are you sure?” He frowned. “Cus if I hurt you, or made you uncomfortable, or-“

“‘M alright. My legs are still shaking though, Jesus.”

He beamed. “Yeah, they do that a lot. It’s actually the muscles response to an orgasm- your brain releases prostaglandins after sex, which cause muscle contractions. Sometimes it lingers, especially coupled with exhaustion.”

You nodded.

“Are you..” his eyes met you, full and worried. “Sure you’re okay?”

“Spencer, it’s fine.” You said, leaning your head on your chest. He took your hand in his. “ ‘s like you said- you just exhausted me. I’ll be alright.”

He grinned. “Well, now you’re just inflating my ego.”

“Oh, shut up.”

He ran a hand down your back. “Do you want breakfast, angel? I can make waffles.”

Your head perked up. “Waffles? At..” you turned to check the alarm clock. “6 AM? You really love me, huh?”

“Mhm.” He kissed the top of your head a final time and pulled his body away from you, getting out of bed and pulling the sheets back over you. He yawned and pulled on some pajamas, still groggy. When he finally made his way over to the door, you made a noise of protest.

“Spencer, wait.”

He turned, a hand on the doorway. “what’s wrong?”

“..can you stay a little longer?” You murmured.

He smiled. “..yea.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #smut

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bloomzone · 2 months ago

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2025 : #17 THE ULTIMATE GUIDE ABOUT PROCRASTINATION

✒️.Procrastination is more than just putting things off as all "procrastination definition" says . It’s an internal BATTLE or WAR against your own brain. When you procrastinate you're not just delaying a task you’re delaying PROGRESS. The longer you wait the harder it gets so yeah It's an endless loop of guilt stress and self-sabotage. But what if you could break that cycle? What if you could stop hiding from your tasks and actually face them head-on? but ..

ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ ɪs ᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅɪɴɢ ᴅɪsᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛ

Think about why you procrastinate. It’s not because you’re lazy it’s because you’re avoiding discomfort cuz Every time you put something off, it’s because your brain perceives that task as a threat to your comfort zone. Whether it’s a project at work, school assignments, or even cleaning your room, the thought of doing it brings up feelings of discomfort, stress, and anxiety. So, your brain tells you, “ hell nah bro just put it off. do something else that feels better right now.”

the reality is that DISCOMFORT is part of the PROCESS. You don’t have to feel good to do the work In fact the more you put things off to avoid feeling uncomfortable the harder and more uncomfortable it will become later. But if you can get comfortable with discomfort, you’ll realize that starting is half the battle. Once you take the first step the rest follows.

ᴜɴᴅᴇʀsᴛᴀɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴘʀᴏᴄʀᴀsᴛɪɴᴀᴛᴏʀ

procrastination is about “fear and avoidance.” You fear failure, you fear not doing a task perfectly, and you fear not measuring up to your own or others' expectations. This fear triggers the avoidance mechanism in your brain your limbic system, the emotional part of your brain that seeks to protect you from discomfort. This makes it hard to make decisions or take action when the task feels overwhelming.

Your rational brain knows you need to get the work done HE TRY TO WAKE UP U but the emotional brain doesn’t care. It wants relief and it wants it now. So, you find yourself scrolling on your phone, watching another episode, or simply zoning out (like me). The task doesn’t disappear it only grows more daunting. The longer you avoid it the worse it feels. That’s why procrastination feels like a snowball effect

ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏsᴛ ᴏғ ᴘʀᴏᴄʀᴀsᴛɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: ᴡʜʏ ɪᴛ ʜᴜʀᴛs

Every time you procrastinate, you’re paying a price. The cost is MENTAL and EMOTIONAL exhaustion. The weight of the task sits in the back of your mind nagging at you. You feel guilt, shame, and frustration for not taking action. And then that stress builds up over time.Procrastination also eats up your time. The more time you waste avoiding, the less time you have to actually get things done. When you finally force yourself to sit down and work, you have less energy and less time to do it well. This leads to rushed, sloppy work, and the cycle continues. It’s a trap that leads to more stress and anxiety. It’s like digging a hole for yourself each moment you wait, the hole gets deeper.

ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪᴅᴅᴇɴ ɪᴍᴘᴀᴄᴛ: sᴇʟғ-sᴀʙᴏᴛᴀɢᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏᴡ sᴇʟғ-ᴡᴏʀᴛʜ

Procrastination can also impact your self-esteem (this is sick) Every time you delay, you reinforce the belief that you're not good enough or that you can’t manage your responsibilities. Over time, procrastination can feed into self-doubt. You start thinking, "I’m just not the kind of person who gets things done" or "I’ll never be able to accomplish my goals." So procrastination is a form of self-sabotage. You’re stopping yourself from reaching your potential. You have dreams, you have goals, but procrastination convinces you that you’re not worthy of success or that you don’t deserve to put in the effort.

ʜᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴄʀᴀsᴛɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ : ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴜʀ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪs !

1. Stop Waiting for Motivation.

Motivation isn’t something that just magically appears when you need it. It comes after you start doing the work, not before. You can’t wait for motivation to strike u have to create it

So How? By taking the first step, however small. Set a timer for 5 minutes, sit down, and start. Action creates motivation.

2. Break Tasks Into Bite-Sized Pieces.

When a task feels huge, it becomes overwhelming, and that's when procrastination sets in. Instead of thinking about the entire project, break it down into smaller, manageable parts. Want to write an essay? Start by writing one paragraph. Want to clean your room? Tackle one section. Small wins lead to bigger wins. Each time you check something off, it builds momentum.

3. Eliminate Distractions.

Procrastination thrives on distractions. The phone, the TV, social media they’re all little traps that pull you away from what needs to be done. Set boundaries. Turn off notifications, put your phone on airplane mode, and create a space where you can focus without interruptions. The goal isn’t perfection, but efficiency. SO THROW UR PHONE AWAY

4. Don’t Wait for the "Right" Time.

There’s never going to be a “perfect” time to start. You’re never going to feel 100% ready. The trick is to get started even when you don’t feel like it. The longer you wait for the “right moment,” the longer the task stays on your to-do list. Start before you’re ready. Trust that you can figure it out as you go.(Like those ppl who have an exam in a Monday and they wait until the perfect time 🤭 and the perfect time become a Sunday night 🥶)

5. Embrace Imperfection.

Perfectionism is procrastination’s best friend. You keep delaying because you want everything to be perfect. But hear me out : done is better than perfect. The task doesn’t need to be flawless; it needs to be completed. You can always improve it later, but only if you take action now.as long as u put effort

ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴀᴄᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ : ʙʏᴏʙ 📢

Sometimes, the best way to break the procrastination cycle is to hold yourself accountable. Tell someone what you’re working on. Whether it’s a friend, a family member, or even a colleague, let them know your goals. When you have someone checking in on your progress, it creates a sense of urgency. If you're someone who struggles with motivation, having external accountability can push you to stop procrastinating and get things done.

ᴏᴠᴇʀᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ɢᴜɪʟᴛ ᴀɴᴅ sᴛᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ғʀᴇsʜ

It’s easy to get stuck in a cycle of guilt. You feel bad for procrastinating, which makes you procrastinate even more. But guilt is not helpful. It’s normal to slip up or delay things. What matters is that you get back on track. Forgive yourself. Don’t let the guilt weigh you down please please please Instead, focus on the task at hand. Take that first step . Break through the resistance

ᴛʜᴇ ᴋᴇʏ ᴛᴏ sᴜᴄᴄᴇss: ᴄᴏɴsɪsᴛᴇɴᴄᴇ

Procrastination is not something you can “cure” overnight. It’s a habit, and habits take time to change. The goal isn’t to be perfect every time it’s to be consistent. The more consistent you are with taking action, the easier it becomes to fight procrastination. Slowly, you’ll start building momentum, and before you know it, you’ll be taking action without second-guessing yourself. (for example set a challenge of one week without procrastination and u will see change)

AT THE END IT'S UR CHOSE : DISCOMFORT TO SUCCESS OR COMFORT TO FAIL

It’s not going to be easy. But you’ve got this AAAAAAH . The pain of procrastination will always be worse than the pain of getting started. Take control, start small, and build from there. Procrastination may try to convince you it’s too hard but you’re stronger than that. Start now, and watch the weight of procrastination lift off your shoulders.

@bloomzone 📇

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l4ndonorizz · 6 months ago

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sleepless nights / lando norris

pairing: lando norris x reader

song: chase atlantic - falling

summary: unable to sleep, lando calls you in the middle of the night, seeking comfort. What starts as a late-night conversation turns into an emotional confession, as hidden feelings come to light and change everything between you

wc: 1.6k

The soft buzz of your phone on the nightstand broke the silence of your room. You blinked groggily at the screen, trying to focus as the late hour made everything seem hazy. Lando’s name lit up the display, and a small knot of concern formed in your chest.

It was nearly 2 a.m.

Swiping to answer, you held the phone to your ear, voice thick with drowsiness. “Lando? It’s really late. What’s going on?”

There was a pause, the quiet sound of his breathing filling the space between your words. “Yeah, sorry,” he replied, sounding hesitant. “Did I wake you?”

You sat up a little, pushing the sleep from your mind. “It’s okay. I wasn’t really asleep yet. What’s up? You sound… off.”

He let out a deep sigh, the weight in his voice unmistakable. “I can’t sleep.”

Your concern deepened. Lando was usually carefree, the type who always found a way to joke through anything. But this time, he sounded different—worn out. “Again?” you asked softly, knowing he’d struggled with sleepless nights recently.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice quiet, almost defeated. “It’s been like this for days. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

You pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders, settling deeper into your pillows as you listened. “What’s on your mind? You wanna talk about it?”

Lando hesitated, and you could almost picture him running a hand through his messy hair, trying to find the right words. “It’s just… everything, I guess. Racing, the pressure, what’s next… I can’t shut my brain off.”

Your heart ached a little at how tired he sounded, and you wished you could be there to help ease whatever burden he was carrying. “I’m sorry, Lando. That sounds exhausting.”

“It is,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. “I hate it. I lie there for hours, and my head just keeps spinning.”

You listened as he vented, the words pouring out now that he had someone to talk to. Lando rarely let people in like this—he preferred to keep things light, brushing off the hard stuff with a joke or a smile. But tonight, he was raw and unfiltered, and it made you realize just how much weight he carried on his shoulders.

After a few moments of silence, Lando spoke again, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “Do you think… do you think I could come over?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Come over? Now?”

“Yeah,” he replied, and you could hear the vulnerability in his voice. “I know it’s late, but I don’t want to be alone right now. I think… I think I just need to be around someone.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and without hesitation, you nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Of course, Lando. You can come over.”

“Thanks,” he said softly, the relief in his voice palpable. “I’ll be there soon. Can we stay on the phone while I drive?”

You smiled at the thought of him wanting to keep talking to you, even during the short drive. “Yeah, of course.”

You heard the faint sounds of him moving around, probably grabbing his keys and pulling on a hoodie. The soft rumble of his car’s engine started in the background, and then he was back on the line with you, the quiet hum of the road accompanying his voice.

“What’s been keeping you up the most?” you asked gently, not wanting to push too hard but knowing that sometimes it helped to talk through things.

Lando sighed, the sound tired and heavy. “Honestly? I don’t know. It’s like… I’m trying to be everything at once, you know? The perfect driver, the perfect teammate, even the perfect friend. But no matter what I do, it never feels like enough.”

The vulnerability in his words hit you hard, and you wished you could reach through the phone and just hold him. “Lando… you don’t have to be perfect,” you said softly. “You’re allowed to have bad days, and you’re allowed to feel overwhelmed.”

“I know, but it’s hard,” he murmured. “I keep thinking about the future, what’s next, what I’m supposed to be doing… and I just don’t know.”

Your chest tightened with empathy as you listened to the quiet frustration in his voice. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now, Lando. You’re doing your best, and that’s all anyone can ask of you.”

There was a long pause, the sound of the road faint in the background as he processed your words. “You always know what to say,” he said finally, his voice quieter. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the warmth in his tone, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. “You’d be just fine,” you joked lightly, hoping to ease the tension, but even as you said it, you knew that wasn’t entirely true. He leaned on you in a way that felt different from how he leaned on others, and deep down, you’d always known that.

“You think?” he teased, a hint of his usual playful tone creeping back into his voice. But then, after a brief pause, he added more softly, “I don’t know. I think you’re a bigger part of my life than you realize.”

Your breath caught at the unexpected honesty in his words. There was something about the quiet of the night, the intimacy of the late hour, that made everything feel more open, more real. “I think you’re a bigger part of my life than you realize too,” you confessed quietly.

Lando didn’t respond right away, but you could hear his breathing on the other end, slow and steady, as if he were thinking carefully about what to say next. “I’m almost there,” he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that told you he wasn’t just talking about the drive.

A few minutes later, you heard the faint sound of his car pulling up outside. “I’m here,” he said, his voice gentle as he stepped out of the car.

You climbed out of bed, pulling your blanket around you as you padded to the door. Opening it, you found Lando standing there, his hair tousled from the drive, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. His face was soft, tired but relieved, and something in his eyes made your chest tighten.

“Hi,” you said quietly, stepping aside to let him in.

“Hi,” he replied, offering you a small smile as he stepped inside, kicking off his shoes by the door. You closed it softly behind him, the quiet of your apartment wrapping around you both like a warm blanket.

Lando stood in the middle of your living room, looking around for a moment before turning back to you, his expression soft but serious. “I’m sorry for showing up like this,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” you reassured him, stepping closer until you were standing just a few feet apart. “I’m glad you came.”

He looked down at his hands, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie, and for a moment, he seemed almost unsure of what to say. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately,” he said softly. “Mostly about you.”

Your breath hitched at the confession, and you took another step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. “About me?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I’ve been thinking about how much you mean to me. How you’re always there for me, even when I don’t deserve it. And… how scared I am of losing you.”

The vulnerability in his words made your chest tighten, and you felt the urge to reach out and touch him, to reassure him that you weren’t going anywhere. “You won’t lose me, Lando,” you whispered, taking his hand in yours. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He looked down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing softly over your skin. “I care about you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “More than just as a friend.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and suddenly, everything felt clear. The late-night phone calls, the way you always felt so safe around him, the way your heart fluttered every time he smiled—it had all been leading to this.

“I care about you too,” you admitted, your voice soft but sure. “More than I’ve let myself realize.”

Lando’s eyes softened, and he stepped closer, his free hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. “I didn’t want to mess this up,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your skin. “But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

You smiled, your heart swelling at the tenderness in his voice. “You’re not messing anything up,” you whispered back.

For a moment, you just stood there, the world falling away as Lando’s gaze locked with yours. Then, slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that felt like a promise—gentle, warm, and filled with everything that had been left unsaid.

When you finally pulled back, Lando rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I think I can finally sleep now,” he murmured with a small laugh.

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “I think I can too.”

#f1 one shot #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #lando imagine #lando norris #lando norris one shot #lando x reader

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sojumamii · 3 months ago

Text

༊*·˚puppy love༊*·˚

summary: a first grade mission goes awry when megumi gets hits by a curses' attack that....turned him into a puppy?! now you, your friends and gojo are tasked with turning him back before it's too late!

tags: megumi fushiguro x f! reader, established relationship in-universe setting, fluff, crack, slice of life. snippy clingy puppy megumi, gojo's grubby hands.

warnings: swearing. unedited.

pt.1 pt.2

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

stupid fucking curse

stupid fucking itadori

stupid fucking kugisaki

stupid fucking GOJO

are all the thoughts rapid cycling through megumi's brain as he watches the three pairs eyes looking down at him, their statures intimidatingly big and tall from where he stands on the floor. the room is now suddenly bigger than he remembers just five minutes ago, all he can see at eye level are the ankles of every single person on his current hit list.

"ah! what the hell happened to fushiguro?!" yuji yells in panic as he looks down at megumi in confused panic.

the immature snickering coming from gojo and nobara explodes into a burst of rambunctious laughter, nearly falling over as they choke on air.

gojo clutches his stomach as he points down at megumi, teasingly cooing,"wow megumi thanks for taking one for the team!" he crouches down to take a closer look at megumi's new...fluffy appearance.

in front of the trio is a small tiny fluffy ball of black fur, a tiny snout nose, and two wide dark navy eyes that contain the coldest glare a puppy can hold. the toy pomeranian is an exact canine counterpart to their beloved brooding friend and student.

"oh crap...how the hell are we gonna explain this one to (y/n)?!" Yuuji mutters in shock.

"oh my god, the curse got turned into one of those yappy little mutts oh this is gold!" nobara wipes a tear from her glittery brown eyes as her laughter begins to fade out.

megumi growls and barks as he rushes to nip gojo and nobara's legs in retaliation.

"agh! you bratty little rat! i'll knock you across the room with my hammer if you do that again" the auburn haired girl shrieks, gritting her teeth, matching the ferocious expression on puppy megumi's boxy little face

"aww! meguuuuuumi you're just the cutest little thing c'mere!~" gojo coos mischievously as he reaches down for the poofy puppy

megumi yaps, running away from gojo's chasing hands, running through yuji's legs and circling around them in increasing panic and speed as gojo chuckles devilishly.

yuji grows dizzy following megumi's movements, he sighs to himself as he focuses on his movements before darting his hands out and snatching megumi away. megumi gives fight and thrashes in his arms growling before his new little body grows limp, his pink tongue hanging out his mouth as he pants in exhaustion.

yuji coos and scratches the top of his head,"alright you gotta calm down now fushiguro." he says as he strokes megumi's soft fur

megumi huffs as if saying,'how can you expect me to be calm?!'

gojo chuckles before picking up his phone to dial ijichi,"we should head back to the school, we'll take him to shoko to get him checked out, and in the meantime i'll see if yaga or nanami can find out any information about that curse," he says walking over to yuji and bending forward to be face to face with his now-canine student.

"and oh by the way," he looks up to yuuji's hazel eyes,"i won't be the one explaining to our sweet little angel what happened to her boyfriend, i'm sure you guys got that covered," he smirks before reaching a sneaky hand to scratch megumi's ears, earning him a growl and snap of megumi's teeth. he quickly retracts his hand,"okay okay geez..."

megumi sighs in his head, mentally wondering how you're doing as today was your long overdue and well deserved day off from missions. he wonders if you're having a better day either doing nothing or cleaning your dorm like said you would

he lets out a groan that in his new form comes out as a sad little puppy whimper when he thinks about how the hell is he gonna explain this new predicament to you...and if he can ever break the curse....

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"Ahh~ it's so clean in here finally!" you happily sigh to yourself taking in the sight of your now neat and tidy dorm room, having been a tornado of clothes, books, and empty beverage bottles due to back to back missions and the never ending cycle of classes. the soft sounds of your favorite music plays in the background and the cozy warmth of the fairy lights adds a more relaxed welcoming atmosphere to your room.

rarely do you ever spend time in here even on your days off or after said missions and classes.

opting to give into megumi's not-so subtle ways of you making you sleep and stay in his own dorm room, which he's progressively losing good excuses just making random nonsense that makes you laugh and wonder why your pretty boy keeps trying to make up excuses when you'd never say no.

'don't you just prefer the direct my room faces? the sun isn't blinding you first thing in the morning?' (you have curtains)

'my water pressure is better' (the dormitories at jujutsu tech have the same exact showers)

your delicate face unconsciously smiles brightly at the thought of your stoic little lover boy, you fondly stare the photo of the two of you on your most recent date at a bookstore-coffee shop that had just opened.(well it was supposed to be a date but yuji and nobara crashed it)

you clip it onto the wall above your desk, adorned with string lights along with other photos of megumi and yourself, and many with yuji, nobara, and gojo...and a cute one you goaded nanami into.

looking at the photo it reminds you that your friends and teacher should in fact be back soon...and that you actually haven't heard from megumi since he texted you that he got to the mission sight. you can't help but to worry but as if right on cue there's a knock on your door.

you squeal beaming with excitement as you skip to open the door

only to reveal

nothing?

huh?!

you look out left right frantically and confused as to who was just at your door.

did you miss megumi that badly you imagined he knocked?

you're snapped out of your thoughts when you hear a little bark, surprised you look around for the source of the sound until you hear it again.

you look down and see a fluffy ball of black fur, wagging it's tail and running in tiny circles and yipping for your attention.

you coo and crouch down to scoop up the palm sized creature,"hey little guy, whatcha doin out here?"

it responds excitedly jumping into your hands and sniffing and licking your face affectionately. you giggle and pull it away from your face,"alright alright i get it you're cute but where'd you come from?" you ask as if it can respond.

when you stare at it face to face for a few seconds...the dog feels familiar...in a weird way, even the way it's eyes stare back at you feels almost human...

you did love to joke that if megumi had a dog form it would not be like the beautiful wolfy appearance of his divine dogs, but the form of a snappy little pomeranian with his hair and sassy attitude. it almost feels like divine intervention that a yippy pomeranian showed up at your door when you started miss and worry about your boyfriend. was this little guy a gift? no, megumi said his shikigami were the closest things to pets you could have....or maybe this is one the staffs' pet? or maybe just a stray...?

then you start to think a little too hard...

bringing the puppy that's still happily wagging it's tail in your hands up to your face you let out a sigh,"You know you kind of remind me of my boyfriend, he's got hair and lashes just like you-no.no.no. it can't be?" you shake your head in disbelief there's no way this dog is megumi fushiguro himself. the dogs yips as if it to say yes.

'it is me damn it!' megumi thinks to himself as he huffs in your arms, he feels a little off balance as you stand up with him and listens to you mutter different possibilities to yourself.

you perk up and gasp when you realize something off about it and bring the puppy back up to your face to interrogate megumi some more.

"hey! you have cursed energy! are you someone's shikigami? is this how they're getting rid of me?" you step out into the hallway, your senses on high alert but there's no sign of a curse user anywhere.

you gasp again- that's megumi's cursed energy signature.

"oh my god-! gumi?!" you ask incredulously, raising him up in the air in front of you. he huffs in confirmation, his little body having grown tired from his efforts of trying to communicate. man being in such a small body is tiring...

"ah crap she figured it out!" you hear yuuji's panicked voice say from behind you.

"damn it...we're really in for it now!" nobara cuts in like clockwork.

you slowly turn around, staring at them in wide eyed disbelief,"what the hell happened out there? how did megumi get like this?" you're asking but there's a snippy essence in your tone that feels like you're being rhetorical. like you're scolding all three of them (mostly nobara and yuuji, you feel bad scolding megumi right now, I mean, look at that little face)

you hug megumi to your chest, stroking his fur comfortingly,"aw my poor gumi, don't worry we'll figure out how to change you back," you smile reassuringly,"if it's any consolation you're even cuter as a puppy..."

he grunts and petulantly tucks himself into your neck, his wet nose pressed your warm skin he seeks your scent and presence. he lets out a soft huff once he gets comfortable, his little body now limp and relaxed as he succumbs to slumber in your arms.

your heart squeezes in both fondness and worry. this whole situation while unexpected and slightly worrisome, is rather comedic. much to his dismay, a snippy little pomeranian is what you often compare him to, and now like a metaphorical prophecy: he is one.

you look at the disaster twins, remarking their nervous smiles you playfully roll your eyes and chuckle,”look lets get him to shoko, you’ll explain everything there.” you direct them both, leading the way to the infirmary. after a minute you halt your steps, sharply turning to your classmates,”wait a second,” you look around,”where the hell is gojo?”

yuji and nobara avoid your eyes stupidly whistling and kicking rocks, wincing when you growl and stomp angrily toward the infirmary.

“stupid white haired bastard good for nothing guardian blindfolded idiot…” you grumble angrily.

the disaster twins sigh, also cursing gojo for leaving them to deal with your reaction to megumi’s predicament. they follow after you, heads down like scolded toddlers.

“not fair that fushiguro gets to be cute and nap…” yuji whines

nobara nods,” y’know i used to wonder how fushiguro bagged someone as good and pretty as (y/n) of all people…but after seeing her temper…they’re made for each other.

though you’re ahead of them, your heightened senses allow you to hear nobara’s words, filling you with warmth and a soft smile gracing your delciate features as you look down at the sleeping puppy in your arms, kissing the top of his head.

“she’s right gumi…we really are. you'll be back before you know it."

to be continued….

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

RAAAAH second (and last.) fic of 2024 and it’s a series! First fic was published on here back at the end of May which is crazy that much time has passed since then! “always a brat” was a spur of the moment drabble and I had no idea it was going to get the love and traction it did, which I am grateful for and very touched! thank you to everyone who supported it, and I hope you like this new installment!

Happy New Year! May you have an even better 2025!

-v

#megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi fluff #megumi x reader #megumi x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk

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nochedie · 3 months ago

Text

sleepless | dean winchester 🌙

pairing: dean winchester x reader

genre: fluff

wordcount: 689

summary: after a night of staring at the ceiling, drowning in your own thoughts, dean helps you fall asleep

a/n: actually wrote this at 3am last night because i couldn’t sleep! i haven’t written for dean yet and i really wanted to show him love so here’s a short little drabble! listened to simulation swarm by big thief while writing 🫶🏼

2am.

your bare feet lightly padded across the laminate of the motel room floor, and you felt around to help you navigate the poorly lit room.

you flinched as your hip bumped into the table, making a bit of noise. you turned to look in the direction of the bed you got out of to grab a drink of water, and through the slight illumination from the moon through the sheer curtain, you could see dean stirring slightly and you hoped you hadn’t woken him.

the motel you were staying in had a small kitchenette with a refrigerator, and you had put a water bottle in there earlier in the day to cool. you grabbed the water bottle and savoured the feeling of the liquid on your dry throat, instantly refreshing. you took the bottle back over to the bed and placed it on the bedside table before trying your best to get back into bed without making any noise.

“you okay, baby?” dean spoke, voice even deeper than usual with sleep.

“yeah, i just needed a drink. go back to sleep, love.” you placed a hand on his hair, brushing your fingers through until you heard his breathing deepen as he fell back into a peaceful slumber.

you stared up at the ceiling, willing your eyes to shut.

3am.

you were still wide awake, having not slept a wink. you turned to dean, still fast asleep. you could just about see his silhouette in the darkness, and you leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to his forehead.

3:30am.

dean began to stir beside you when you moved to grab the water bottle from the bedside table.

almost instinctively, and still half asleep, he reached out an arm to drape across your waist.

you paused your movements, frustrated with yourself for making too much noise and disturbing him.

“c’mere.” dean tugs your form slightly, prompting you to put down the water bottle and slip back down beside him.

“can’t sleep?” he tries to suppress a yawn.

“not really.” not at all, in fact. you hadn’t slept a wink all night and you didn’t even feel close to falling asleep.

one of dean’s hands found yours, and he placed a gentle kiss to your neck. “anything i can do?”

“no.. it’s alright.” you turned your body to face him, shuffling as close as you could as dean wraps you up in his arms.

“have you slept at all tonight?” he questioned.

“no…”

“baby…” dean brushes a few strands of hair away from your face. “is there something wrong?”

“there’s nothing wrong, really. it’s just… i don’t know, i guess i’ve been a bit more stressed than usual lately.”

“why didn’t you tell me?” his tone was soft and concerned. he wasn’t berating you, but rather worried that he had done something wrong or that you didn’t trust to tell him about any of your worries, big or small.

“i didn’t want to bother you with it…”

“you couldn’t bother me if you tried, sweetheart.”

“i worry about you. i worry about sam and cas. i worry about everybody we’ve ever known. i don’t think i could cope with losing anybody else…” your brain was full and it wouldn’t turn off. countless scenarios playing in your head on a constant loop.

“i worry about that too, baby… but you need your sleep. you must be tired.” truthfully, you were exhausted. but everything was just so loud.. it wouldn’t grant you peace.

dean knew you loved to hear him sing, even though he would only do it once in a blue moon and never in front of anybody but you. feelings of content smothered you as soon as the first note left his lips.

“i close my eyes… only for a moment, and the moments gone…”

after a few moments, the sound of his voice, his touch, his scent, him, muted the sound of your crushing thoughts.

it didn’t take you long after that to finally allow sleep to engulf you. by the end of the song you were fast asleep, your breathing deepening with each passing moment.

“sweet dreams, baby.”

comments, feedback etc always appreciated! thank you for reading!

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #supernatural fic #jensen ackles #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x you #supernatural x you #supernatural x reader #spn x you #spn fic #fluff #dean winchester fluff

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grimesbunny · 2 months ago

Text

when you sleep

cw dubcon. somnophelia. unprotected piv. dirty talk. prison era. secret relationship. not proofread idc.

the exhaustion festering inside rick’s bones takes the form of something more heady once his eyes adjust enough in the darkness to make out your sleeping form. clad in just his shirt and your cotton panties, rounded, plump flesh peeking out just enough to feel purposely teasing. it takes everything in him to constrain his groan, cock quickly filling the front of his blood stained pants. you’re none the wiser— turned away from him on your stomach as slow breaths cause your chest to rise and fall rhythmically.

gently, he reaches over your figure, brushing your wild hair behind your ear to get a better look at your pretty face. the lack of ponytail or braid leads him to presume you fell asleep on accident, probably succumbing to restlessness after having been waiting for him all night. that thought is what has him reaching down to palm at his bulge.

“my sweet girl.” he coos lowly. his voice sounds gravelly to his own ears after having spent the majority of the journey back to the prison in silence. “so beautiful, aren’t you?”

it’s as if a magnetic force brings his lips to your cheek, his calloused hand to your hip. cant help himself.

the bed dips under the weight of his knee, sliding it where one of your legs is perched off to the side. his warm hands feel you up innocently at first, sculpting the dips and crevices of your pliant body. reveling in how soft. . . how alive you feel. “missed you so much. missed touchin you.”

his inhibitions falter the longer he sits there, hovering over you. breathing you in. he lets his hips fall slightly to catch the friction of your ass against his hard on.

“god.” he laughs out in disbelief at himself. “feel that baby? feel me throbbin for you in your sleep?”

he looks up for a reaction, any indication that you’re somehow consenting and enjoying this, because he doesn’t know if he can just stop here. he pins his hands on either side of you for leverage as he bucks into you. the side of his brain nagging at him for how perverted he’s being is overtaken by the part that’s chanting desperately for more.

“drive me crazy. make me need you so bad, don’t even have to try.” he grits out the misplaced blame, his thrusts becoming more deliberate. he’s chasing his own high, using your unconscious body to get off. humping you like a dog in heat.

one particularly rough thrust jostles you slightly, making you shift in your sleep. rick doesn’t stop, not even when a soft groan slips out of your mouth. not even when you blink awake.

“rick? is that you?” the mixture of confusion and innocence in your voice only spurs him on, his breathing growing heavier by the second.

“shhh, it’s me, baby.” he places another kiss onto your cheek, soothing your hair out of the way in attempt to comfort you. maybe coax you back to sleep. his lips trail down to your shoulder, the snap of his hips never faltering. “so soft, honey. how’s it that in a world like this, you still feel so fuckin soft?”

your next words sound more clear, more awake. you turn to look at him in the dark. his hair falling over his forehead, still fully clothed and unshowered from the run. the lustful glint that has turned his eyes almost completely black. “what’re you doing, rick?”

“i know, i know. fuck.” he’s sympathetic, even as his hand travels up your shirt. as it trails along your stomach, as it gropes the fat of your breast. you gasp, your own hand coming to weakly circle around his bulging bicep. as if you could ever fight him off. “can you feel how hard you made me?”

you don’t respond verbally, because rick doesn’t count whimpering into your pillow as a response, but you push your ass back to meet his thrusts, still meek from sleep. he groans out, long and throatily and low, a proud grin etched onto his lips.

“there’s my girl. d’you miss me too?” his breath tickles the shell of your ear, followed by a rougher kiss to your jaw. “waiting for me to get home and take you?”

you nod as best you can in your position, letting yourself bask in the pleasure of having him pressed against you. you’re leaking, soaking the spot where your groins connect. rick has to reach down and feel it.

“sure feels like you missed me.” he chuckles, cocky. the rough pads of his fingers dip into your panties from behind, sliding along your slippery folds. “fuckin’ say it.”

“missed you s’much, rick.” you whine through delirium and pleasure, bucking down into his hand involuntarily. “was getting worried.”

“poor thing. gonna make it up to you.” he hums absently. too lost in the feeling of you. your puffy mound, the scent of your hair. he dips a thick finger into your spongy entrance. “look at that, always open up nice and easy for me, huh? could slide right in.”

you instinctively clench around him at that. your thighs threaten to close— they would if it weren’t for the way his knee has rooted in between them. “yeah? want me to stuff this little pussy?”

you manage to squeak out your confirmation and he removes his hand, but the sound of his belt unraveling behind you is enough to make you whimper in anticipation.

“yeah, you need it just as bad as i do.” he states. he takes a pillow from beside your head, lifts your hips with one hand and slides it under you in one swift motion. it’s a position he’s taken you in several times, but neither of you have gotten used to just how deep it sends him. and it’s one of those nights where he needs to be as deep as possible, breach uncharted parts of you. “don’t you?”

you feel his spongy, thick tip press against your entrance in the dark and squeeze your eyes shut. he’s painfully hard at this point, and it takes every last bit of resilience from rick not to shove himself inside and pound your cervix until it’s bruised. of course, you would take whatever he gives you without complaint. but he’s not a barbarian.

“oh— mhm. need you, rick.” you confirm, though it feels like you’re speaking through cotton with how exhaustion and pleasure are playing tug of war inside you. it’s far from a lie. you need him in more ways than one, much like how the rest of the group needs him.

only this part of it, the one saved for when the two of you are alone, spoken through silent glances and subtle touches throughout the day— this is sacred. just between you.

“you’re gonna get me, honey.” he knees your thighs farther apart to make room and eases his way in. his ego soaks up your gasp at the intrusion, the stretch.

it winds him too, sends him toppling forward and landing with his hands pinned on either side of you for stability. he’ll never not marvel at how warm and tight you are inside, sucking him in like you never want him to pull out. it’s almost gotten you pregnant more than a few times.

“yeah, that’s it.” he groans, careful not to wake anyone in your cell block. the heavy weight of him envelopes you from behind, pressing you uncomfortably into the prison mattress. your bones are sure to be sore and bruised from it tomorrow, but all you can focus on is his voice, his breathing, his scent— his cock. filling and stretching you so nicely. curving enough to slot inside your stomach.

he’s grunting out strings of praises into your ear — “so fuckin’ perfect. takin’ care of me…” — and all you can manage out are mindless mewls, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. he doesn’t warn you before he cums inside, just fucks into you rapidly until you feel the warmth blossoming in your abdomen. it momentarily snaps you out of your entranced state, and you attempt blink back at him.

“rick, did you—”

“couldn’t find condoms, baby. i tried.” he sounds completely unfazed. he kisses your cheek one more time before he pulls out and tucks himself back into his pants. “go back to sleep.”

and with that, he rolls over next to you. it’s not seconds later that you hear snores falling from his mouth. you try your best to ignore the feeling of his come leaking out of you and close your eyes as you snuggle up next to him, knowing he’ll be out of your bed long before anyone else wakes up in the morning.

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes smut #the walking dead #the walking dead smut #twd smut #twd x reader

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